


The Chemical Wedding of Albrecht Grindelwald

by Ellidfics



Series: Motherless Child [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alchemy, Heidelberg, M/M, Nazis, Pre-Slash, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 06:41:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellidfics/pseuds/Ellidfics
Summary: December, 1938. As Christmas approaches, Heidelberg, home of the Student Prince, prepares to host a great celebration. All is in readiness for the wedding of the Führer's favorite, Albrecht Grindelwald, as he prepares to take a young and beautiful bride: the castle, the guests, the spells that will ensure a long and fruitful marriage.Only two men know why Grindelwald is to marry here, and marry now: Remus Lupin and Severus Snape. Why have they come from the future to disrupt the greatest moment of the Wizarding Reich?





	1. Prologue:  18 December 2000

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, this story is not DH compatible. It was begun almost four years earlier and is firmly in an alternate reality. Second, for those keeping score at home, it’s a prequel to “Motherless Child” and fills a major gap in the series, however, you do not have to have read the series to understand this fic. Third, a shout-out to my betas, Knitprincess, Red_Day_Dawning, and Neonsatire, whose advice and comments are deeply appreciated.
> 
> Finally, I’d like to dedicate this story to Lore, for her patience, and to my friend Karen, who got me involved in Potter fandom in the first place and never stopped asking when I’d finish this. Ladies, I hope this was worth the wait.

"Headmistress?"

Minerva laid down her quill and shook her head. Why had she ever opened the Hogwarts archives to a writer? Yes, it was past time for a reasonable biography of Albus, and yes, Fidelia Guff had an excellent reputation for fairness and objectivity, but the woman had all but moved into the castle. Thank goodness she had promised to be out by New Year's.

"Yes, Miss Guff?"

"Could you spare a moment?" Fidelia Guff, blonde and very chic in a Muggle miniskirt and black rimmed glasses, clicked her way across the polished floor of the Headmistress' office. "I found a letter addressed to you in the Grindelwald section."

"To me?" Minerva stood as Miss Guff approached. "There must be some mistake. I was a student in the 1940s, not one of Professor Dumbledore's correspondents. Moreover, my name wasn't 'McGonagall' until I married."

"Be that as it may, this appeared while I was working my way through the late 1930s," said Miss Guff. She held out a plain white envelope with "Headmistress McGonagall" written in Albus' distinctive hand. "One moment it was all clippings about Grindelwald and Hitler, and the next this appeared in the scrapbook for 1938. Shouldn't that be impossible?"

Minerva frowned and accepted the envelope, automatically murmuring the old Order charms for booby traps and curses. The letter had a strong aura of magic, yes, but nothing harmful. And the handwriting was unquestionably genuine. What was going on?

She summoned a letter opener and carefully slit the envelope. Two letters fell out, one relatively fresh, the other yellow with age. The newer floated to her usual reading height and unfolded itself.

21 April 1997

My dear Minerva -

Please forgive an old man for springing this on you without warning; I fear that dark times lie ahead, and I very much doubt I will see them to their conclusion. I assure you that I would much prefer to handle this in person, and should it happen that I survive the coming months, I will take the appropriate steps to negate this spell.

Minerva thinned her lips. Albus had been dead less than a month later, too weak from destroying the Marvolo ring to withstand the poison Harry had poured down his throat. What had been so important that he had used what little strength he had had to cast a temporal spell that would send a letter three years into the future?

_I'm sure you're wondering exactly what is so critical about this letter. I cannot reveal the details without risking the true course of Time itself, but know this: **you must take this seriously.** History cannot unfold as it should unless you act correctly, as I'm sure you'll realize once you read the enclosure._

_There is an unregistered Time Turner concealed in the mantelpiece, behind Bacchus's largest bunch of grapes. I have pre-set it to the proper time and place. I have also left instructions, set to appear today, with my brother Aberforth, as well as appropriate clothing, money, and travel documents._

Travel documents? Clothing? Minerva frowned and settled herself on the edge of her desk. She made a shushing motion at Miss Guff as the writer attempted to speak.

_I am very sorry that I cannot be clearer, but you know how tricky a thing Time can be. I wish you and those you must send back the very best of luck, and, as always, I have complete trust in your judgment and discretion._

_Happy Christmas, Minerva. Be well._

_Albus Dumbledore_

"Headmistress? Is something wrong?"

Minerva carefully opened the second letter. The cheap stationery nearly split on the fold line, but the ink was fortunately still black and clear.

_Hotel zum Ritter St. Georg_  
Hauptstrasse 178  
Heidelberg 

_20 December, 1938_

_Professor Albus Dumbledore_  
c/o British Embassy Berlin  
Special Section  
Berlin 

_Professor Dumbledore -_

_The wedding will go forward as planned, but Wolfi and I have prepared a little surprise for the happy couple -_

The date - the cramped handwriting -

_No. Impossible. He wasn't even born!_

Had Albus been mad? Hallucinating despite everything Poppy and Severus could do to fight the curse destroying his arm? Minerva desperately tried to remember everything she could about Albus during that last month, when he had spent what little reserves he had left to prepare Harry Potter for what he had to do.

_"I cannot reveal the details without risking the true course of Time itself, but know this: **you must take this seriously**. History cannot unfold as it should unless you act correctly."_

Minerva skimmed the older letter once, twice, then read it a third time and cast a _retego_ charm on the fragile paper. "'When one has eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however impossible, must be the truth,'" she quoted.

"Beg pardon?" Miss Guff, glasses slightly askew, was almost close enough to read the hotel letterhead. "Headmistress, is something wrong? You've gone pale."

"Never better, Miss Guff. I simply remembered an appointment." Minerva briskly tucked both letters into her robes. "If you'll excuse me?"

Miss Guff looked puzzled. "That letter - "

"It's of no import, Miss Guff." Minerva glanced at the clock and mentally placed them: one grading end of term papers in his office, one probably in London at his tiny flat. Could she reach them quickly? And how close had Albus cut the timing as to when the package appeared? "I'm terribly sorry, but I really must get ready for my appointment." She tapped her wand against the Clan Chattan paperweight on the corner of her blotter. "Winky will escort you back to the archives so you may collect your possessions."

"But - "

"You'll of course continue to have complete access to the archives during the holidays." Minerva held out her hand and graciously waited for the younger woman to close and ward her notebook. "I'll be in and out until the January term starts but I'm sure we'll see each other. Have wonderful Christmas."

"The same, I'm sure." Minerva allowed herself a faint smile at how easy it was for an aging schoolteacher to send the toughest non-fiction writer in the Wizarding World packing as Miss Guff's heels tapped quickly out the door and down the stairs. She waited for the door to shut and the gargoyle to grind its way back into place before drawing her wand and summoning her Patronus and tapping the paperweight a second time..

The Chattan cat had vanished through the open window by the time Snippy had appeared, received instructions, and returned with a box of Albus' papers from the 1930's. She read over the ancient letter until she had it memorized, then set to work on the archival material from December 1938. Of course Albus had been his usual cryptic, infuriating self, but that did not excuse willful ignorance on her part.

The clock struck quarter past the hour. Minerva calculated how long it would take her Patronus to reach London and how long it would take for someone to walk from the gates to the school, then strode to the fireplace and threw in rather too much Floo powder.

"Severus? I realize you're busy, but I need to see you immediately."

Severus Snape, hair even greasier than usual (what _had_ they been brewing in the NEWTs class today?), appeared in the flames. "Headmistress, if you want these papers marked before the students leave - "

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but this can't wait." Minerva drummed her fingers against the back of her chair and listened for the faint scrape of stone-on-stone from the gargoyle. "Please come at once, Severus."

The door to her office opened. The fireplace flared green. Minerva flicked her wand at the guest chairs and waited for her visitors to sit.

"Remus, Severus. I'm so glad you could come." She withdrew the letters from her breast pocket, cast a duplicating charm, and handed one copy of each to both men. "Please read these before you say a word - even you, Severus. And no, Albus wasn't mad when he wrote this."

Severus paled as he recognized his own cramped, spiky handwriting. Remus held the cover letter out at arm's length, frowned, and stuck his reading glasses on.

"Headmistress, this can't - "

"What nonsense is - "

"Gentlemen!" Minerva walked around her desk to chair and sat. "If Professor Dumbledore is to be believed, time is literally of the essence."

Severus opened his mouth as if to speak. Minerva glared him into silence. "I know what this looks like, and I don't blame you for being skeptical."

"Skeptical? Is that all you can say? Albus must have been mad! Duplicating my handwriting, some nonsense about a wedding - " Severus turned to Remus Lupin, who had been quietly examining the originals of both letters. "I'm sure Lupin agrees with me."

"Actually, I don't, at least not entirely." Remus scratched his head and held up the original letter from Heidelberg. "My uncle Gil was in the Resistance, you know, on General de Gaulle's staff. He said there were rumors that Dumbledore, or someone close to him, managed to foil a major working by Hitler's staff wizards late in 1938 or early in 1939. Heidelberg's been a major magical centre since the Renaissance - "

"I know all that," said Severus. He leaned over to stare at the letter. "Unlike most of us, I took a NEWT in History. The Nazis were obsessed with magic, even their Muggles. Himmler actually tried to learn ceremonial magic from Grindelwald so he could teach it to the SS, not that it worked." He folded his arms. "Fascinating, but it has nothing to do with me, or any of us. I can't believe you called me out of my office for this, Minerva."

Minerva took a deep, steadying breath. There were times when she dearly wished Severus were still her student and she could set him to writing "I must not be impertinent" 1,000 times without his wand. How much should she tell them? Too much was as bad as too little.

"I didn't believe it myself, Severus, until I read Albus's papers from the war. Evidently he ran across two British Wizards right before the Winter Solstice in 1938. They were out to stop some great plan that Albrecht Grindelwald had planned that would ensure the Third Reich would outlive Hitler. Their work was instrumental to the ultimate failure of the Nazi magical program, or so he claimed."

"Two British wizards could be anyone."

Minerva raised her voice. "One was a half-German potions expert. The other was a werewolf. And when they were pursued - " _They have to know. I hope I'm doing the right thing!_ " - one of them defended himself with a cutting spell that permanently scarred Grindelwald's chief assistant, Rupert Maier. The incantation was _ sectumsempra._"

Remus, lips parted, turned to stare at Severus. Severus had gone rigid.

"I invented that spell."

"I know." Minerva leaned forward, hands pressed against the worn blotter. "It's no joke, Severus. I don't know what the two of you did, or how you did it, but somehow you and Remus were there."

The gilt bronze clock of Winged Mercury on the mantel struck the half hour. No one spoke.

"I don't suppose Albus was kind enough to give us instructions?" Severus could scarcely be heard over the crackling of the fire. His face had tightened in a way she hadn't seen since that dreadful last year of the War.

"Nothing explicit, of course. You know how it is with temporal theory," said Minerva. "He may have left something more at the Hog's Head. Aberforth has clothing, travel papers, and money for you, and there's a Time Turner - "

A faint boom sounded from the staircase, followed by footsteps and a deep voice muttering something about _dunderheads_ and _they don’t pay me enough for this_. Severus whirled, mouth half-open, as Remus stuffed Minerva's copies of both letters into his robes and sprang to his feet.__

_ _Minerva activated the fireplace as the footsteps started up the stairs. "Both of you, into the Floo! _ Now, Severus_!" He sat frozen in place, staring at the door with an expression that was equal parts horror and revulsion. Did she really have to tell him that the time shift had already started, and that another Severus was nearly there?_ _

_ _"Here, let's go. The last thing we want is to meet ourselves." Remus, ever practical, grabbed Severus by the arm and all but dragged him toward the fireplace. "Aberforth - "_ _

_ _" - will equip you. I'll be there as soon as I can with the Time Turner." Minerva activated a mild defensive spell on the stairs. There was a thud as if someone had stumbled, and a snarled curse. "Both of you, go! And don't let anyone but Aberforth see you! Now!"_ _

_ _Severus seized her hand for an instant as Remus swept him toward the roaring flames. "Minerva, are you - "_ _

_ _"I'm certain, Severus." She took the time to squeeze his hand before nudging him forward. "I'll be along directly."_ _

_ _Remus gave her a quick nod. "Come on, Severus. I know you don't like Aberforth, but we haven't a choice."_ _

_ _"It's more that he doesn't like me, in case you hadn't noticed."_ _

_ _'The Hog's Head!" Minerva cried, and shoved Severus forward into Remus's arms._ _

_ _The door to her office opened to admit a disheveled and already complaining Severus Snape, teaching robes spattered with something sticky and purple. Two subdued Ravenclaws, one male, one female, trailed miserably in his wake._ _

_ _"Ah, Severus." Minerva smoothed her hair into place and assumed her best "Headmistress McGonagall is not happy" expression as the green flames sputtered out behind her. "What is this all about?"_ _

_ _Severus gestured at the mess on his clothing. "Mr. Crombie and Miss Grogan have once again flouted school rules and risked the safety of their classmates through their unsupervised experiments - "_ _


	2. Nigredo

_21 December, 1938_

_Professor Dumbledore -_

_You'll be thrilled to hear that Wolfi and I have prepared a little surprise for the happy couple to ensure that their progeny is healthy, normal, and completely human. Weddings should be a time of joy for all generations, or so my mother always said, and it gives me great joy to know that the newlyweds' posterity will contribute to the greater good._

_We had to leave the reception early and have no return ticket, but Miss Chattan assured us that we could rely on your assistance. We would also request passage for a certain Fräulein who would like to study abroad, and wondered if you could arrange same._

_Please reply by Floo to the British embassy in Berlin at your earliest convenience. Best wishes for the holidays, and all the years to come._

_As ever, now and always -_

_Theo_

_Wolfi_

Remus set the letter aside and rubbed his temples. Severus sat huddled by the fire, the remains of a half-eaten pub lunch on a small table in front of him. Aberforth had not been at all pleased to see them, but, as promised, he had taken them in, hustled them upstairs to what he swore was his best room, and sent in a scraggly elf with bread, cheese, veg, and bottled beer for two. Severus hadn't said more than five words the entire time.

Someone knocked on the door. Remus loosened his wand in its sheath and did his best to disguise his voice. "Who is it?"

"Me, ye great fools." Aberforth Dumbledore, long-nosed and scrawny, stuck his head into the room. "Minnie Floo'd me. She'll be here in about an hour, said to get ready." He glared at Severus. "Said ye were to 'bring Mr. Lupin up to speed' on Nazi Germany. I'd obey if I was you."

"Which you are not." Severus curled his lip in a half-hearted sneer. "Tell the Headmistress that I'll do what I'm told. Haven't I always?"

Aberforth made a disgusted sound. "Right. Mind ye don't dirty the floors."

Remus waited to speak until Aberforth had slammed the door behind him and tromped down the stairs to the common room. "Bring me up to speed? I'm not sure why that's necessary. My father and uncle - "

" - were in the Resistance. I know that, Lupin." Severus grimaced and resumed staring into the fire. "And I'm sure they told you many fascinating stories about the evil Nazis and how they cut the hands off of Belgian babies to make Hands of Glory for the tourist trade. You're a veritable expert on Germany in 1938."

"All I was going to say was that I know something about the war itself. Nothing more." Sniping at each other was not the best way to prepare for time travel. "I don't even speak German, let alone know much about life under the Nazis."

"I see that I'll have to do most of the talking." Severus raised one long hand and accio'd their passports. He paged through each document, shook his head, and tossed one to Remus. "It seems that I'm to be 'Michael Prince,' while you're 'John Cunningham.' I assume that Cunningham was your mother's maiden name?"

Remus opened his passport and stared at his own face. The picture was clearly taken from his Werewolf Registry identification photo, aged upward to reflect his gray streaks and facial lines. The clothing had, of course, been altered, so that he wore a 1930s suit rather than the purple and gold Qiana print disco shirt Sirius had egged him into donning in 1978. "Yes. She's Scots, actually. Met my father working for the Wizarding UN in New York.." He flipped through to the visa section and saw that "John Cunningham" had traveled extensively, primarily in France and America. Albus had thought of everything. "And I assume that 'Michael' is your middle name?"

"Unfortunately." Severus tossed his passport back onto the robes heaped on the lumpy four poster. "My father wanted me to have a Muggle name in case I turned out to be a squib." He made a short, ugly sound that was probably intended as a laugh. "I think he was disappointed when my Hogwarts letter arrived. It was the final proof that I'd be able to do what he couldn't."

There was a muffled _bong_ from the village clock. Remus unfolded himself from the chair. "We'd best pack."

Severus grunted and joined him at the bed. Two small suitcases, four sets of linen, one set of old-fashioned robes in black, one brown tweed suit, and two thick rolls of Reichsmarks in various denominations lay on the worn patchwork quilt. Two sets of boots and two boiled wool cloaks, one black, one dark green, waited by the door.

It took longer than Remus had estimated to change from his jumper and jeans into the unfamiliar garments. The braces holding up his trousers were the worst, and the question he'd meant to ask since they'd arrived came out during his third effort to keep the bloody things from hanging halfway down his arm.

"Severus? I didn't know you liked Muggle history. I know Grindelwald and his circle were Nazis, but the way Aberforth talked one would think you were some sort of expert."

Severus paused in the middle of sorting the money. "Kindly remember that I took a NEWT in History of Magic. That includes the Grindelwald brothers and their influence on Europe during the Nazi regime."

"You did? I’m amazed. It's not as if you've ever been friendly with Binns." Something niggled at Remus's memory. "Didn't your family live in Germany before the war? Your mother's grave had a German name."

"My family history is irrelevant." Severus'ss new-old robes were close enough in cut to his usual teaching costume that he could have been preparing for work. "We will not be encountering her or her relatives."

"You're certain?"

"I should think I know when my own mother immigrated. I assure you, she's in Britain by now." Severus could have been staring at a particularly loathsome insect. He waited for Remus to look down before continuing. "If Aberforth is correct about when Minerva will return, we have perhaps half an hour. I suggest we use that time wisely."

"Yes. We should." Remus waited for the other man to return to packing his suitcase before cautiously flicking his wand at his own valise. "We'll need cover stories, I daresay. Silly asses on holiday?"

"That might work if you can manage to act even more idiotic than usual. I know my limits as an actor so you may have to play the fool for both of us." Severus closed his suitcase with a distinct click. "I'm sure the Nazis will be thrilled to have their prejudices about upper class twits confirmed."

He pointed his wand at his head and did not move as his hair shortened and slicked itself back, then spoke a charm and did the same to Remus before Remus could dodge the spell. "Hold still! It won't be easy to fit in as it is. The least we can do is have appropriate hairstyles."

"Point taken," Remus murmured. He gave his braces a last jerk and shrugged into his jacket. A felt hat rose from the bedside table and settled itself on his head. "So. I'm not expecting a complete history lesson, but anything you can tell me will help."

Severus shook out the black cloak and draped it over one arm. He sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the worn floorboards. "I'm not an expert. Minerva is mad to think that I am." He ran a hand back over his hair. "I hope I don't need to remind you not to address me as 'Severus' or 'Professor.' I'm Michael Prince the minute we're in 1938."

"Just as I'm John Cunningham." Remus glanced at the first page of the passport. "And I'm not a werewolf on these documents, so moon jokes are not in order."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Of course." His face looked much sharper without all that hair framing his cheeks. "Second, Englishmen were alleged to be more than welcome to holiday in Germany in 1938. That moron Chamberlain had just made 'peace with honour,' so we would have been hailed as long-lost racial brothers - don't laugh. That was exactly what the Nazis thought."

"Idiots."

"Yes. Unfortunately, they were ruthless, power-mad idiots, which is why Europe was in flames within two years." Severus stood and walked over to the window. It was well past dark, and Christmas shoppers crowded the streets of Hogsmeade. "Albrecht Grindelwald was one of the worst, even if his brother eventually took his place as the Nazis' chief sorcerer after Albrecht failed to counter the Lammas Working in 1940. He was the first wizard to join the Nazis, and instrumental in teaching Hitler the few spells he could cast - oh, didn't you know that? Hitler was a wizard, barely. Muggleborn, of course, and nowhere near powerful enough for Durmstrang, but he could cast _sonorous_ and _charismata_ on himself.

"Regardless, Grindelwald convinced Hitler and Himmler that the Aryans had been the first wizards in Europe."

"That's ridiculous. Our ancestors were Roman. That's why the spells are all in Latin, not German."

"You know that, and I know that. But there was a whole cult in Germany that believed otherwise." Severus flicked his wand at the window. The curtains drew themselves over the leaded glass to ward off the winter's chill. "Grindelwald believed that magic could be bred back into the general population. That was why the Nazis instituted their breeding program - they wanted pure Aryans, yes, but they were primarily looking for pure Aryan _wizards_. SS officers with the merest trace of Wizarding blood were all but forced to function as studs in hopes of 'restoring the ancient race.'"

"Did it work?" Remus was ashamed of himself the instant the words were out of his mouth.

Severus lifted his shoulders a fraction. "I've no idea. Enrollment at Durmstrang stayed level during the appropriate years, or so Karkaroff always said, but the Nazis founded their own Wizarding school near Salzburg in 1934. Who knows?"

Remus accio'd his cloak and draped it over his suit. It was nearly time for Minerva to arrive. "What else do I need to know? People, places - "

"Don’t speak French or let on that you're half-French. The Nazis were obsessed with getting revenge for 1918." Severus ticked off points on his fingertips. "As I said before, let me do most of the talking, since I do speak German. Don't go haring off on your own, and don't count on being able to make yourself understood. Contrary to myth, most of the world doesn't speak English."

"That I know." Remus'ss uncle Gil ran a tourist company and had pressed Remus into service as a guide more than once. Watching Americans try to make themselves understood by speaking extremely slowly was not amusing after the fourth or fifth time. "What about restrictions on lycanthropes?"

Severus laughed for the first time. "If you're mad enough to let on that you're a werewolf, they'll probably try to draft you for the ZSS - the _Zauberer Schutzstaffel_. Half of Grindelwald's inner circle were either werewolves or vampires, although rumors that he encouraged ZSS men to breed with Giants are - "

Both men started at the rap on the door. Remus had nearly freed his wand in its unfamiliar sheath in the sleeve of his suit when Minerva threw the door open and hurried up to them.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. Severus, that young Ravenclaw fourth year bears watching. He brewed a perfect _Infelicis_ potion and almost brought down the castle!"

"Crombie? That boy will be the death of us all." Severus looked even paler than usual in the firelight. He slowly held out his hand for the Time Turner. "Minerva, are you absolutely sure - "

"For the second time, Severus, yes. I'm absolutely sure." Minerva's hair had come loose from its usual bun. She dashed at a wispy curl that fell across her forehead. "Remus, are you ready?"

"Yes, Minerva." Remus picked up his suitcase and joined them by the door.

"Good." The Time Turner was a slightly different model than the one Hermione Granger had used during her third year. A calendar dial rimmed the central hour indicator, and a map of the world was delicately engraved on the case. "You'll arrive in Berlin just before 6:00 p.m on the 18th of December. Albus's records indicate he made contact with 'Theo' and 'Wolfi' in Heidelberg on the 19th or 20th, so there's some connection there as well."

"Just as the letterhead indicated. Thank you." Severus bent his head as Minerva looped the Time Turner about his neck. "We've set the copies of those letters to self-destruct as soon as we've transferred the text to the hotel stationery." He fingered the fine golden chain.

"As for returning - "

"There's no automatic recall, I'm afraid." Minerva stepped back. "Albus will be able to tell you when you contact him."

The air started to shimmer. Severus pulled Remus to his side and extended the chain so both men stood within its circle. "Minerva, I - "

"Godspeed, gentlemen." Surely those weren't tears on her face?

A flash, a whirl of images, a gust of briny air, a ripping sensation worse than a portkey -

\- and a sleek Daimler automobile whisked past as they stood on a street corner just opposite a great stone gate. A man in a dark coat brushed past them with a curt _"entschuldigen Sie mich, meine Herren."_

"Sorry," Remus said. He stepped back against the side of a massive building as Severus reduced the Time Turner's chain and tucked the gleaming pendant inside his robes. "Sev - "

"Michael. My name is Michael, and don't forget it!" Severus all but spat in his ear. "And before you make a complete fool of yourself, yes. It worked. We're in Berlin."

The Wizarding section of Berlin was in the Bärenring District, near the Nikolaikirche in the oldest section of the city. Fortunately, Severus had been to Berlin for a conference and was able to apparate them to the oldest square in Bärenring, directly beside a sturdily carved fountain of bears cavorting with centaurs and unicorns.

The square itself could almost have been Diagon Alley just before Christmas: the same twinkling lights in every storefront, the same harried shoppers dashing about in search of the perfect last-minute gift, the same smells of spice and baking and balsam fir. Remus fingered the bankroll in his pocket and wondered how much it would translate to in galleons and sickles. He had a small stipend as head of the British Federation for Werewolf Rights, but this was a fortune compared to the pitiful savings in his Gringott's vault. The tempting offerings in the pushcarts and shop windows were off-limits due to temporal distortion, but he couldn't help wondering how many Christmas gifts he could buy here.

"Cunningham. Stop staring. We need to see about getting a room for the night."

"We're not going to Heidelberg?" The fountain was dry for the winter, although there were traces of transparent ice about the bears' mouths. A clock tolled six times.

"Not tonight." Severus's fingers moved in the pattern for _muffliato._ "We need food, rest, and intelligence, not necessarily in that order. We'll have a better chance of getting all three here than in a tourist center, especially just before Christmas."

"Yes, of course." Remus picked up his suitcase as Severus headed for a building with a fresco of a mermaid above the front door. _"Die Schoene Lorelei?"_

"She's the nymph who guards a rock in the Rhine." Severus led the way into a blissfully warm lobby. He dropped his luggage by a thickly padded chair and jerked his head in the direction of the front desk. "Please imitate her by guarding our bags while I negotiate a room. Unless you'd prefer to sleep in an alley by what's left of the Reichstag?"

"Far be it from me," said Remus. He dropped onto the nearest sofa and watched as Severus, boiled wool cloak fanning out behind him, strode up to the desk clerk.

The room seemed to be taking longer than expected, and of course Minerva hadn't allowed them to bring any personal items from the future except their wands. Remus yawned, shifted in place, and idly summoned a newspaper from a neat stack on a gleaming walnut coffee table.

It was in German, of course. Remus did his best to puzzle out the headlines, but gave up after three umlauts in a row. Ancient Runes were nothing compared to this. And why were all the headlines in blackletter Gothic type?

He sighed, folded the newspaper neatly, and levitated it back to its place in the stack. Surely they had something for foreign guests? Or at least allowed translation charms? Germany wasn't quite a pariah state, at least not yet, and it was hard to believe that "Michael Prince and John Cunningham" were the only non-German wizards in Berlin.

A word or two in Spanish floated past from a corner of the lobby. Remus turned, saw a small news kiosk in the corner of the lobby, and craned his neck until he saw a headline in English. He jerked his head at Severus and pointed at the kiosk. Severus nodded back and returned to asking the price of _“ein Hotelraum mit Bad für zwei Herren”_ from a rosy cheeked blonde who bore a striking resemblance to the mermaid on the placard above the front door. Remus muttered a touch-me-not spell and pointed at the luggage, which obediently glowed dark red for a moment. Die Schoene Lorelei looked eminently respectable, and its guests all seemed prosperous and content, but he was taking no chances.

The kiosk was nearly as crowded as the street. Remus tipped his hat to a buxom woman studying what appeared to be a childcare magazine and edged his way between her and the counter to the small selection of _“fremde Zeitungen und Zeitschriften.”_ They needed intelligence, and where better to start than with a newspaper or two?

He thumbed through the selections in English before choosing the _Times_, the _International Tribune,_ the _Prophet,_ and the _Guardian._ There were no French papers or magazines that he could see, and neither he nor Severus could read the bountiful spread of Italian and Spanish dailies, not that either Mussolini or Franco had had much to do with the Wizarding World. He decided against anything American after seeing that most of the headlines concerned President Roosevelt, who was not a wizard and probably kept his Undersecretary of Magic at arm’s length except when absolutely necessary.

Two boys of about thirteen burst in from the street, one with ice skates floating behind him, another with a broom over his shoulder, and made straight for the magazines. Remus could not help smiling at their exuberance as he made his way to the racks of local papers and thumbed through the unfamiliar titles.

_Der Volkische Beobachter_ was the Nazi daily, or so Gil had said, and likely had articles about Grindelwald’s dealings. _Die Kristallkugel_ seemed to be the German equivalent of the _Prophet._ Remus looked up as one of the boys yanked a thick tabloid from the racks and waved it at his friend with an excited squeal. He was about to ask them to be quiet when he saw the cover.

_Der Stürmer's_ latest issue showed a leering, hook nosed man licking his lips as a fragile woman clutched a sickly baby to her chest. The illustration moved in the jerky way peculiar to early, crude Wizarding photos, emphasizing how lewdly the man’s spidery fingers brushed oh-so-casually against the women’s arm and upper breast on their way to her face. His black hair shone from too much oil, and his teeth were stained from tobacco smoke, the roots dark with decay.

**DEUTSCHE ZAUBERER! SCHÜTZT EURE FRAUEN!** screamed the headline.

_“Da siehst du! Ich habe euch gleich gesagt, man kann diesem dreckigen Juden Steinmetz nicht vertrauen. Alles was die wollen, sind unsere deutschen Mädchen!" _One of the boys thrust the paper into his friend’s face. “Siehst du? Es steht hier in Stürmer!"

“Das ist doch verrückt! Herr Steinmetz ist verheiratet! Warum sollte er - “

“Du bist so naiv! Der Führer hat in MEIN KAMPF doch alles dargelegt - “

The clerk looked up, scowled, and accio’d the tabloid right out of the first boy’s hands. _“Walter! Johann! Seid gefälligst leise.”_ He smoothed the crumpled paper with a spell and slapped it down on the counter. _“Eure Mütter haben sicher schon das Abendessen auf dem Tisch. Geht heim!”_

The first boy shrugged, waved, and clapped his friend on the back as they exited to the street. _“Macht nichts, mein Vater hat eine Ausgabe im Badezimmer versteckt, wo er glaubt, dass ich sie nicht finde... “_

The sales clerk shook his head. He glanced at Remus's packet of newspapers before speaking in good but accented English. "Those two, they should know better than to read such trash. I ask your pardon."

"It's all right." Remus pulled a bank note out of his pocket. He could not help wincing slightly at the lurid cover on _Der Stürmer,_ and how closely it resembled Severus as he had been during the War. "I'm just happy to find something in English. My colleague reads German - " he jerked his head at Severus, who had finally obtained a key and was starting across the lobby toward them " - but I don't. Thank you."

"You are most welcome, sir. We are happy to see Englishmen here in Berlin." The man nodded politely to Severus. _"Guten abend._ Will you be long in Germany?"

Severus glanced down at the stack of periodicals. His expression did not change, even at the cover of Der Stürmer. "A few days at most. We have business in Heidelberg."

"Ah! Excellent!" The clerk summoned a glossy souvenir program from a rack by the door to the street. "You have heard of the great museum Deputy Reichsführer Grindelwald has founded? It is invisible to the non-magical, of course." He added the program to Remus's bundle. "No payment for this one, all should visit the new Museum of German Wizardry. Here is your change. _Haben Sie eine gute Sonnenwende!"_

_"Frohe Weinachten,"_ said Severus, grabbing a used mystery novel from the shelves and dropping it on top of the newspapers. He waited for Remus to collect his change and summon their bags before heading for the lift. "Cunningham? This way."

"Coming, Michael." Remus caught up with him as the elevator doors swished open. It was a recent Muggle model, probably spelled to tolerate magic, and barely made a sound as it glided upwards seven stories.

Severus did not speak until they were safely inside Room 742. "Here. I'll take the bed by the window, unless you have a strong preference."

"I don't." Remus locked the door behind them and cast a non-verbal warding and sound muffling spell. Severus had dropped his suitcase onto the luggage rack at the foot of his bed and was sketching an elaborate pattern with his wand. He gestured for silence as the misty golden tracery spread through the room and settled into the walls.

"There." Severus kept his voice low despite the protective charms. "It should be safe to talk now. And before you think I'm paranoid - "

"I completely agree." Remus shed his cloak and sat on the very edge of his bed. "Better safe than sorry if there's a chance the owner is spying on us."

"He may not be in the pay of the Gestapo, but he has to keep a record of all foreign guests for the authorities. _ Lumos."_ The bedside lamps came on. "There were no detection spells on the room, it seems, but I'm not taking any chances."

"I don't blame you." Remus handed over _Die Kristallkugel_ and the souvenir program. "Here. I'll start on the ones in English."

"Thank you." Severus sat down at a small, darkly veneered table by the window. "Aberforth's bounty notwithstanding, we should probably order room service. I'm not sure they'd seat me in he dining room."

"What? You said Englishmen were welcome in Germany." Remus frowned as he realized that the clerk had given him the copy of the _Der Stürmer_ by mistake. He grimaced at the ugly cover before snapping _evanesco!_ and watching the magazine dissolve in midair. "If it's because of this, I'd bet every news vendor in Germany has to sell it. The clerk was perfectly polite to you."

_"After_ an obvious foreigner identified me as his colleague. I doubt he would have sold me a matchbook if I'd come in alone. You realize that they only found a room after I'd shown them my passport?" Severus turned in his chair so that his back was to the window. His expression was carefully neutral. "Order something typically German, like schnitzel or sausage. We don't want to attract attention by asking for foreign food."

The Umbridge Laws were bad, but Remus had never feared arrest simply for booking a hotel room or buying a newspaper. "I didn't realize - "

Severus gestured at a small, neatly printed menu on the bedside table. "Try not to be an idiot, Lupin. Food is more useful than apologies." He opened _Die Kristallkugel_ and pulled a fountain pen and notebook from the breast pocket of his robes. "The Museum of Aryan Wizardry - what utter nonsense - Paracelsus was Swiss, not German - "

Remus had to force himself to concentrate on the menu full of unfamiliar dishes like _Wienerschnitze_l and _Leberknoedel_. Fortunately the menu translated itself when he tapped the words _Auf Englisch_, and it wasn't long before a polite elf in an immaculate white pillow slip tapped at the door with their meals.

One did not tip an elf, even in a hotel, but Remus was tempted; pork roast with spaetzle and red cabbage and roast chicken with mixed vegetables looked heavy, not to mention two beers and two portions of chocolate cake with cherries. "Here, let me take that. It looks wonderful. Thank you!"

"You are welcome, _mein herr,"_ said the elf. Its voice was surprisingly deep. "Please to leave the trays outside the door. Breakfast will be brought to you at 7:00 a.m."

"Thanks awfully. Good night!" Remus counted to ten after shutting the door before resetting the privacy charms. "Here. Your choice of chicken or pork."

"Chicken." Severus waited for Remus to join him before shaking out his napkin and draping it over his lap. "I don't care for pork."

Remus could have sworn he'd seen Severus tuck into bacon at High Table more than once, but it had been long enough that he could have been mistaken. He shrugged and quickly cast a detection spell on their meals before the sauce could cool. "No poisons, drugs, or spells. Highly caloric, but it's not as if either of us is watching his weight."

"Hm." Severus cut himself a slice of chicken and tasted. "Very good. You chose well."

Remus could not help smiling to himself. "Glad to know I’m not a complete dunderhead."

Severus raised an eyebrow and continued to eat. Remus took a moment to savor the richly spiced scent of meat and sauce before digging in. He shouldn't have been hungry, but evidently the temporal shift required more energy than less complicated spellcasting.

They ate in silence, Severus continuing to read the pamphlet, Remus working on the newspapers. Soon their plates were bare of everything but crumbs and a lump of sauerkraut that neither would touch. Remus levitated the tray toward the door, which obediently opened long enough for the tray to float through and settle itself in the corridor where the elf could collect it.

"Well." Remus refreshed the privacy spells and opened his suitcase. Had Minerva thought to include pyjamas, or would they have to sleep in their underwear? "Any luck? That museum sounds promising."

"Quite." Severus had unlaced his robe and sat down on the bed, program and Muggle newspapers spread in front of him. "Take a look at this. Grindelwald is planning to visit the Museum himself on the Solstice. He's to marry _eine Hexe des reinen Bluts _\- 'a witch of pure blood,' to be literal - in the newly reconstructed Great Hall of the Elector Palatine's castle. A great many prominent Nazis are to attend, including Himmler, plus most of the leading Wizards in Germany." He made a stabbing gesture at _Die Kristallkugel._ "So much for the regulations on magical security. Himmler probably thought - thinks he'll develop magical powers through osmosis."

"He might have been looking to steal ideas. Didn't you say he studied ritual magic?" Remus unfolded his reading glasses and leaned over Severus' shoulder. Albrecht Grindelwald was a tall, strongly built blond with piercing light eyes and very short hair. The photo collage showed him hunting in Bavaria with a fat man in Lederhosen (Goering?), attending the Wagner Festival in Bayreuth in full Muggle evening dress, and saluting Hitler at a Party rally in Nuremberg. His uniforms were so perfectly tailored that Remus had to look twice before spotting the wand sheath along the outer seam of his trousers.

"Barely. He had some ridiculous idea about the SS becoming a new order of priest-kings." Severus turned to a two-page spread in _Die Kristallkugel_ profiling Grindelwald's bride, Ilse von Landsschaffshausen. Her father, _“ein General im Grossen Krieg,_" stood warily to the side in a "candid" photo of Ilse, blonde, petite, and genuinely beautiful, blushing jerkily as she accepted a marquis-cut engagement ring from her fiance. "Grindelwald was happy to indulge him, of course. It meant more money for his pet projects, like this museum in Heidelberg."

"Huh." Remus looked more closely at the photo. "The girl - she can't be more than half his age. Surely he isn't marrying her for her bloodlines?"

"Of course he is." Severus summoned a water carafe from the desk and murmured aqua. It filled almost instantly and poured itself into two matching glasses. "She's his second wife. His first was a classmate from Durmstrang who was unfortunate enough to be part Tartar. Fräulein von Landsschaffshausen is from one of Germany's oldest pureblood families, and is a direct descendant of Michael Maier, the alchemist."

"Maier - isn't that the same name as the one - "

"The one I'm supposed to wound? Yes." Severus finished his water and carefully set the glass on the bedside table. "I believe the families split generations ago. Rupert is another old school chum of Grindelwald's."

He pointed to another photo, this one a group shot of Durmstrang's class of '07. Grindelwald, relaxed and smiling, stood in the exact center of the first row, between a shockingly handsome fair haired youth and a thin, dark-haired boy with what appeared to be the Durmstrang equivalent of a prefect's badge pinned to the breast of his robes. "The good looking one is Maier. He specialized in Dark Arts and was working on a multiple-subject version of _avada kedavra_ when the War ended. I believe he was hanged at Nuremberg."

"God." How had these children become the Darkest wizards of their time? Remus scanned the innocent faces and tried to reconcile his uncle's horror stories with these beardless boys. "It doesn't seem possible. They're so bloody young, all of them."

Severus went very still. "One might have said the same about us, Lupin. Yet two years after we left school we were at each other's throats, and two decades later Lily's only child was a living weapon." He snapped the newspaper shut and tossed it onto the dining table. "The program book is in English and Italian as well as German. I suggest you take a look at it while I use the loo."

"Of course." Remus waved at his bed, which obediently turned itself down. He waited until Severus, back a touch too straight, had shut the door to the gleaming en-suite before picking up the program book. He had plenty of questions, but they could wait until Severus had returned.

_Living weapon. I wonder if Lily would have allowed it? Or approved?_ He flipped through the glossy pages. Was Voldemort that much more powerful than Grindelwald, that much Darker? It wasn't as if he'd allied himself with the Tories to take over the government, or helped a dictator overthrow the Queen. Harry had become an Unspeakable at least partly because he was obsessed with preventing another Dark Wizard from arising (as if one man could do that!), and the only members of Dumbledore's Army who seemed to be content with normal lives were Hermione and Neville. Surely that wasn't what Lily and James had wanted for their son?

Remus sighed and tossed the program onto the pile of newspapers and magazines. It was nearly ten and he doubted that the management would let them have a lie-in simply because they stayed up late reading newspapers. He could read about the Museum of Aryan Wizardry over tea and whatever pastry was the fashion in the morning.

Severus emerged from the loo in a flannel nightshirt, his robes following him in a neatly folded stack. Remus slipped in after him, a pair of crisply striped pyjamas tucked under his arm (thank God Minerva had remembered!). He undressed and washed, then padded back into the bedroom and hung up his suit and shirt next to Severus's robe, murmuring the freshening charms he'd used on his Oxfam specials to keep his clothes neat during the years when all he had had was pride.

The program had fallen open to the photo spread about Reichsführer fur Zauberer Grindelwald. Remus held the pages out at arm's length to get final look at the photo spread. Grindelwald, eyes dancing, had edged away from the dark-haired boy, a mock-angry expression belied by the affectionate cuff he gave his friend. Maier, by contrast, was genuinely scowling, while the dark boy had a slight smirk on his thin, intelligent face. Remus chuckled at the evidence that schoolboy rivalries were not unique to Hogwarts and wondered what he had missed.

Severus waited for him to get into bed before dimming the lights. Remus pulled the blankets up to his chin and settled into a comfortable position. He was almost asleep when he thought of a last question.

"Severus? Is there any way to get a translation of that article? That background information on Grindelwald and his first wife is fascinating."

It was a long time before Severus spoke. Remus wondered if he had dozed off when the reply came.

"The article is a puff piece about Grindelwald's glorious career. It never mentions his first wife."

Remus rolled over and blinked in the direction of the other bed. The sharp, slightly hooked nose was the only part of Severus visible in the dim light. "Then how did you know all that? Surely it's not common knowledge."

Severus raised himself on his elbows and shook his head as if his hair were still long enough to get in his eyes. Even in the dark he looked furious, and not because he had been on the verge of sleep when Remus woke him. "The marriage is in the public record, as you'd know if you read something besides Dark Arts publications," he hissed.

"But - "

"You may not be tired, but I am. Good night, Lupin." Severus fell back to the mattress, muttered something about brainless idiots, and turned his face to the window.

Remus stared at the too-short black hair on the pillow, the shoulder bones evident through the bedclothes. Even for Severus, this was a bit much. What was going on?

_Give it up, Remus. He's never going to trust you enough to be straight with you. He never has and he never will._

Remus could not sleep.

He tried to tell himself that it was the time shift or possibly the unfamiliar, luxurious bed. After forty-five minutes he gave up and shuffled back into the loo with the souvenir program and an English-German dictionary. If Severus wouldn't tell him everything, he'd puzzle it out himself.

The captions were blessedly simple once he puzzled out the wretched typeface: "Mr. Assistant Führer Grindelwald and his fiancee." "Our Wizarding Assistant Führer joins Empire Master Hunter Goering at his private preserve." "At Bayreuth with the Führer." "The Wizarding Corps at the Nuremberg Party Rally, 1936." Remus couldn't help remembering the summer his mother had decided to study film and had had to watch _Triumph of the Will_. Did the Nazis never do anything light-hearted? Was it always so serious?

He turned the page and stared at the picture: "The Young Grindelwald at Durmstrang." Rupert Maier scowling, Grindelwald joking with his friend, the dark boy grinning at Maier's discomfort - it was familiar enough to hurt. Another group of schoolboys, another group of innocents who would face disaster. Had Grindelwald been their equivalent of Sirius? Was the dark boy their James or their Peter? What about the scowling blond?

The dark boy noticed him, elbowed Grindelwald, and gave him a cheeky little wave. One of his lower teeth was slightly crooked, and Remus found himself chuckling at how unselfconsciously he smiled. Half the reason Severus looked so forbidding was because he'd barely smiled since the day Sirius had dared him to open a bottle with his teeth and one had been permanently displaced, and that was how many years ago?

Remus squinted down at the page. The dark boy, clearly puzzled, cocked his head and frowned. A lock of none too clean black hair fell into his eyes, and he dashed it away with a sniff at Maier as the blond glared and turned his back. There was something familiar about the set of his shoulders, the way his eyebrows arched, the shape of his mouth -

"Go back to bed, Remus," he murmured, and hoped Severus did not hear. "You're hallucinating. Too much of that pork roast and mustard."

The dark boy shrugged and turned to Grindelwald. The future Reichsführer fur Zauberer rolled his eyes at Maier's rigid posture, pulled a snitch out of his pocket, and started talking animatedly with his friend. The dark boy leaned forward, his profile sharp against the velvet draperies of the background.

Remus snapped the supplement shut. He counted to ten, took a deep breath, and carefully laid the magazine on the edge of the sink. They could look at it again tomorrow morning, after a good night's sleep and whatever hearty German fare Herr Innkeeper and his eerily well-trained elves served for breakfast.

Severus did not move as he carefully opened the door into the bedroom long enough to mark the position of the bed before murmuring _nox_. The floor was cold, and for once he wished he had Moony's thick winter coat as he burrowed under the eiderdown.

He refused to let himself wonder why the dark boy who had been such pals with Albrecht Grindelwald looked so much like Severus Snape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German translations:
> 
> _"entschuldigen Sie mich, meine Herren."_ "Excuse me, gentlemen."
> 
> _“ein Hotelraum mit Bad für zwei Herren”_ "A hotel room with a bathroom for two men."
> 
> _“fremde Zeitungen und Zeitschriften.”_ "foreign newspapers and magazines"
> 
> **DEUTSCHE ZAUBERER! SCHÜTZT EURE FRAUEN!** "German Wizards! Protect Your Women!" Der Sturmer was a notorious, near-pornographic rag published by Julius Streicher, an anti-Semite so vicious that even Hitler kept him at arm's length.
> 
> _“Da siehst du! Ich habe euch gleich gesagt, man kann diesem dreckigen Juden Steinmetz nicht vertrauen. Alles was die wollen, sind unsere deutschen Mädchen!" _ "You see! I told you right away, you can not trust this filthy Jew Steinmetz. All they want is our German girls! "
> 
> _“Siehst du? Es steht hier in Stürmer!"_ "You see? It says so right here in Der Sturmer!"
> 
> __  
“Das ist doch verrückt! Herr Steinmetz ist verheiratet! Warum sollte er - “
> 
> _“Du bist so naiv! Der Führer hat in MEIN KAMPF doch alles dargelegt - “_
> 
> "That's crazy! Herr Steinmetz is married! Why would he - "
> 
> "Don't be so naive! The Fuhrer warned us in Mein Kampf - "
> 
> _“Walter! Johann! Seid gefälligst leise._ "Walter! Johann!" Please be quiet."__
> 
> __  
__“Eure Mütter haben sicher schon das Abendessen auf dem Tisch. Geht heim!”_ "Your mothers have supper on the table by now. Go home!"_  

> 
> __  
__“Macht nichts, mein Vater hat eine Ausgabe im Badezimmer versteckt, wo er glaubt, dass ich sie nicht finde... “_ "Never mind, my father hid a copy in the bathroom where he thinks I can't find it - "_  

> 
> __  
__"Guten abend._ "Good evening."_  

> 
> __  
__Haben Sie eine gute Sonnenwende!"_ "Have a good Solstice!" Many of the senior Nazis, especially Himmler, wanted to recreate "Aryan paganism," which meant pagan holidays instead of Christian._  

> 
> __  
__"Frohe Weinachten,"_ "Merry Christmas." Yes, Severus is being deliberately insulting._  

> 
> __  
_Wienerschnitzel is a veal cutlet pounded very thin, breaded, and sauteed in a pan. It's delicious, especially with red cabbage. Leberknoedel are liver dumplings, and wild horses could not get me to try them._  

> 
> __  
__“ein General im Grossen Krieg,__" "A general in the Great War," the 1930's name for World War I.  



	3. Albedo

_Part Two: Albedo_

A collection of rolls, jams, and fresh butter, with slices of boiled ham and two soft boiled eggs, arrived promptly at 7:00 a.m. The serving elf, this one a female in a tea towel printed with folk art motifs of birds, flowers, and Christmas greens, smiled as Severus accepted the tray, and said that if they needed anything else, all they had to do was ask for Hilfy. She had disappeared with a cheerful little pop, and Remus had to smile at her exuberance as he reached for the teapot.

"We're in a good mood this morning, I see," said Severus. He carefully inspected each tiny dish of jam, setting aside the ones he liked. 

"Not really," said Remus. He sighed at his first swallow of strong, dark tea. Fortunately he liked boiled ham. "When should we leave for Heidelberg?"

"We'll need directions to the _Bahnhof_ \- the train station. They're running extra lines because of the crowds expected for the museum opening." Severus dumped sugar and milk into his tea. "I'm not sure we'll be allowed to apparate, given the travel restrictions, but they might make an exception for foreigners."

The rolls were fresh, and the butter was soft enough to spread without being runny. "That would be convenient. The less we're around Muggles, the better."

"For once I have to agree with you." Severus took a sip of what smelled like unbearably sweet tea, followed by a tiny roll slathered in raspberry jam. How did the man avoid gaining weight or developing diabetes? "Our papers are false and we're in this year without permission or the knowledge of the current Ministry. The less attention we attract to ourselves, either among wizards or Muggles, the better chance we have of success."

He paused in the act of drowning another roll in jam, this type a dark, somewhat runny purple. "When is the full moon? If you're about to change - "

Remus closed his eyes and let Moony poke his head out for a moment. "No worries there. The solstice is the new moon." He yawned extravagantly. "No wonder I'm so sleepy."

Severus raised the corner of his mouth a fraction and made a gesture toward the ham. "In that case, be my guest, not that I was planning to eat it in any event. You need the extra protein."

Remus took a bite and sighed at how good it tasted. "I could get used to a breakfast like this."

"I believe Molly Weasley smokes her own meats, if you're interested in the hearty country life." Severus attacked his egg. "Fresh air, plenty of room to indulge your wild side, no need for a collie if you decided to raise sheep - "

"Sorry, but I'm a city boy." Remus finished his slice of ham and carefully decapitated the second egg. "Molly and Arthur can live the simple life. Hogsmeade is about as rural as I can stand."

"Fascinating," said Severus, in a tone that implied it was anything but. He passed Remus the souvenir program and unfolded the nearest newspaper with a crisp _snap_. "See if there's a train schedule or a list of hotels. I don't fancy sleeping by the banks of the Neckar in this weather."

"I was just about to," said Remus, and pulled out his reading glasses. "Camping in December is right out."

They ate in silence, signaled for Hilfy to remove the breakfast tray, and took turns washing and shaving, Severus with an old-fashioned straight razor, Remus with a Gillette charmed not to rust. They had packed and were taking a last look at the train schedule to Heidelberg when Remus decided to take a chance.

"Severus - I mean, Michael?"

"Yes, Cunningham?"

_Always my surname, even here._ "I had a question. You needn't answer if it makes you uncomfortable, but - "

"What will make me uncomfortable is missing the express and having to take the local train through half of Germany." Severus spell-locked his luggage and slid his wand into its sheath. "Ask."

"That picture of Grindelwald and his friends?"

Severus went rigid for the merest of instants. "What about them?"

"The third one, the one who kept joking with Grindelwald." There was a faint sound of music from a brass band in the street below. "Do you know his name? I recognized Grindelwald and Maier, but this one - "

"We don't have time to track down all of Albrecht Grindelwald's school chums." Severus dropped a few marks into the ashtray by the bed as a tip for the chambermaid, paused, then stuffed them back into pocket with a muttered _never tip an elf._ "We need to leave if we're to make the next train."

"Sorry, I just thought you might know him since you're so up on Nazi - "

"How nice to see that you're a silly ass in private as well as public." Severus curled his lip. "His name is not relevant, nor do I see why you care."

"It's just that - " Remus shut his mouth as Severus gave him the sort of cold, contemptuous look he would give a Gryffindor who had fallen asleep in class. "You're absolutely right. Shall we?"

Neither spoke as they paid up, bought the morning papers, and caught the loden green trolley that was the local equivalent of the Knight Bus to Platform S-12.5 at the _Bahnhof_. The crowd was large, and composed mainly of middle-aged, prosperous wizards with stout, respectable witches on their arms. The few children in evidence were well-behaved and attentive, the teens straight backed and clear eyed. There was remarkably little talking, and none of the exuberance one might have expected from families heading off to a holiday treat.

Severus checked the time, occasionally looking up at the squeak of wheel on rail as trains pulled in and out. Remus turned the collar of his coat up against the breeze from the tracks and did his best to act casual. Soon enough they'd be on the train, and if the compartments were anything like those on British trains, they'd have enough privacy that Remus could ask why Severus had reacted so strongly to a century old photo.

A sleek, iron gray diesel locomotive and six equally sleek, iron gray cars pulled up to the platform. A conductor emerged from each car and began shouting orders in German as the passengers obediently queued up into neat little lines. Severus jerked his head toward the nearest door and strode forward. Remus joined him as he reached the head of their line and pulled out two one-way tickets.

The conductor looked them up and down, dwelling for a fraction too long on Severus. "_Karten?_"

"Here," said Severus, in an Oxbridge drawl that would have put the royal family to shame. He handed over the tickets with studied negligence. "I trust everything is in order, my good man? We haven't come all this way to miss the museum opening, have we, Cunningham?"

"Right-o! Can't wait!" said Remus brightly. He beamed up at the German, hoping he didn't look as foolish as he felt. "Beastly cold, what?"

"Englisch? _Ahl so_," said the conductor. He glanced at the tickets, nodded briskly, and waved them into the carriage. "Enjoy your visit, _mein Herren_. _Willkommen in Deutschland!_"

"Thanks awfully." Severus smiled vapidly and swept onto the train, Remus trailing in his wake. The carriage was filling up rapidly, and the odds that they would have to share one of the clean, elegant compartments were high and getting higher. 

"It's worse than the Hogwarts Express," he said as the third compartment in a row filled up with holiday-goers. "We'll never - "

"Ah, Englishmen!" A middle-aged wizard, blue eyes twinkling, appeared before them. "I had thought I was the only one of my countrymen in Berlin. Come, join me. There's plenty of room."

Severus paled slightly as the wizard ushered them into an otherwise empty compartment. "That's very kind, but I assure you, Cunningham and I will be quite fine. We're - "

"Cunningham? Are you related to Miss Cunningham of Roxburgh?" Their new friend peered at Remus over half-moon glasses and broke into a huge, warm smile. "Of course you are, she has cousins near the Wash. Delightful girl, one of the most agreeable students in her year even if she's a bit Bohemian in her tastes."

"Miss Cunningham of Roxburgh" meant either Remus's mother or his aunt Euphemia, who had recently set herself up as a resident witch at something called Burning Man to sell elf-thrown pottery to Muggles. No wonder Severus had blanched. "Do you mean Maggie? She's quite something, she is."

"Maggie?" Severus, color back to normal, remained standing. "Cunningham, we mustn't impose. You can catch up with Mr. - "

"Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore. I teach at Hogwarts, as you've probably guessed, and it seems that one of your friend's little - cousins, is it? is one of my Transfiguration students." He pumped Severus's hand and closed the door. "And you - were you educated at home? I never forget a student and - "

The whistle sounded, and the train began to pull forward with the slightest of jerks. Severus stumbled slightly and quickly dropped into place beside Remus. Albus, hale and well and obviously in his prime, arranged his fine wool traveling robes about him and settled into place opposite them. He waited for the train to gather speed as it left the station before producing a familiar tin from his sleeve. 

"Sherbet lemon?"

The train lurched slightly as it rounded a curve. Remus quickly shook his head. He had never bought into the Headmaster's obsession with sweets, and seeing that it long predated Remus's own birth was an even greater shock than seeing Albus here on the train to Heidelberg. "No thank you, I just had breakfast."

Severus raised a hand to ward off the candy as Albus started to turn. "Perhaps later."

"I will keep that in mind, Mr. - dear me, I don't believe I caught your name?" Albus absently finger-combed his beard. It was shorter than the long white tangle he had sported in his latter days, and mainly auburn. "I assume you're off to Heidelberg to see the new museum."

"Oh yes! The museum is a must-see." Remus risked a glance at Severus. He had turned his face to the window and was gazing out at the suburbs of Berlin as they flew past in a grayish blur. "Sorry, Prince is a bit tired. We got in rather too late last night, I'm afraid."

"Prince? I know that name!" Albus raised a finger. "Let me see - was it Alix? Gillian? Estelle?" He snapped his fingers. "Yes, that's it, Estelle and Maurice Prince. I believe they're neighbors of the Diggles, down in the Home Counties. I taught them both, of course, one in Slytherin, one in Ravenclaw. I don't believe they have any children as yet, although of course Maurice had a rough time after the Great War."

Severus turned back from the window. "I'm afraid I'm not related to your old students, Professor." He blinked rapidly and pasted on the same vacant expression he'd used on the conductor. "I’m Michael Prince, of the Yorkshire Princes, and this is John Cunningham. Thank you for sharing your compartment."

"It is my pleasure. I always enjoy making friends," said Albus. His smile was every bit as charming as it had been sixty years later. "I must warn you that I am not here entirely for pleasure, as delightful as it will be to see Albrecht and his new museum. Germany is not what it was, alas."

_And here we go._ Remus ran his hand back over his hair in the old Order code: _what now?_ Severus gave him a long, cool look before scratching his chin: 

_Wait._. 

"Really?" Severus cleared his throat. "Cunningham and I have seen little of the country so far. Trains run on time, which is more than one can say in London."

A tall, broad shouldered man strode past their compartment, somehow not lurching despite the joggling of the car. He wore a military greatcoat over an immaculate field grey uniform, a swagger stick that likely concealed his wand tucked precisely under one arm. Albus stopped twinkling until he was out of sight.

"Except during time of war, uniforms have no place in civilian life. Seeing them worn so openly is - disquieting." Albus frowned and absently ran his hand over his beard. "I hope Albrecht and his bride will be able to spare me a moment of their time for a bit of a chat. The dear boy little knows what he is doing."

"Do tell?" Severus could have been any mildly interested tourist making small talk. "I did not know you were acquainted with Herr Grindelwald."

"I've known the family for years. His elder brother and I were friends when we were young." Albus shook his head, eyes crinkling slightly in a brief wince. "The elder generation of the family is most unhappy with the boys, especially with Gellert, although they have had the good sense not to say so in public."

"Gellert?" Remus pulled out his copy of the souvenir program, unshrank it, and opened it to the profile page. "I didn't see anything about him in this section. Surely he'll be at the wedding?"

"Gellert does not like to be photographed," said Albus. He skimmed the photo spread, occasionally pursing his lips at the captions. "May I borrow this, gentlemen?"

"Of course." Severus waited until he was engrossed in the program to hand Remus the _Daily Yell_ and the _International Tribune_. He considered his own copy of the _Volkischer Beobachter_ for a long, measured moment before placing it face down on the seat beside him and extracting _The Murder of Roger Ackroyd_ from the breast pocket of his robes. Remus waited until he was, to all appearances, thoroughly engrossed before starting in on the paper.

It was the Monday before Christmas, so there was little of substance. Most of the front section was taken up with stories about the snowstorm that had begun on Saturday and showed no signs of letting up, and how wonderful it was that Londoners could skate on the Serpentine and sing Christmas carols in the snow. Remus flipped through page after page looking for political news, but it seemed that King, Queen, Parliament, and Lord Mayor had all decided to hibernate until the storm had passed. The foreign news was largely confined to pieces about President Roosevelt's plans to light a Christmas tree on the 24th, French socialites marrying and divorcing, and the unemployment rate going up amongst California fruit pickers.

Had he read any of it in a newspaper morgue, it would have seemed charming and nostalgic. Reading it as actual news made him wonder if the older generation had been willfully blind. Did they truly have no idea of what was going on? No thought that a year later they'd be at war?

"Thank you, Mr. Cunningham." 

Remus started. He quickly removed his reading glasses and held out his hand as Albus, smiling but not twinkling, passed him the souvenir program. "Don't mention it. I'm sure it's nothing you don't already know, being friends with the family and all that."

"I wish I could say that were true, but alas, it seems there are matters too intimate to be shared with an old acquaintance." Albus popped another candy in his mouth and settled back in his seat. "Though obviously not with the Fourth Estate."

Severus raised one eyebrow and grunted, stretching out one long leg toward Remus: _too casual_. Remus folded his reading glasses and covered his mouth in an exaggerated yawn: _contact?_ Severus pulled his leg back toward himself, shifting in place until he was more comfortable: _later._

As disconcerting as it had been to hear Severus acting the part of a silly ass, he had a point: German trains were indeed faster, cleaner, and quieter than their British counterparts. Leipzig, Dessau, Erfurt, Frankfurt-am-Main…the towns and cities flashed by, one after the other. Albus appeared to drift of around Dessau, and Remus wished he could follow suit. Between the new moon and last night, he was more than ready to curl up for a nap. 

_No time, Remus. Keep reading._ He breezed through the _Yell_ rather more quickly than he'd thought, including the crosswords, and started in on the _Times,_ then shifted to the American papers. Soon they would be at Heidelberg and would have to find the Hotel Zum Ritter Georg, which was probably sold out, and - 

Severus sat up straight as they rounded a curve. The countryside had gone from urban to village to full country back to village, and he covered his mouth to yawn. He set his novel aside and picked up his copy of the _Volkischer Beobachter_; last night he had called it a "party rag" but it was the best source for keeping track of senior Nazis.

"Anything interesting?" The warm compartment, the rhythmic clack of the train - Remus tried and failed to suppress his own yawn.

"A great deal, most of it irrelevant," said Severus. "Unless one greatly admires Herr Hitler."

"Which I most emphatically do not," said Albus. He removed his glasses, folded them neatly, and tucked them into the breast pocket of his robes. "I also do not appreciate it when people lie to me."

Severus, wide-eyed, was the picture of outraged innocence. "Lie to you? Now see here, we've only just met and - " 

Albus gestured, and the compartment went utterly quiet. Remus tried to unsheathe his wand and froze in mid-pull as the greatest wizard of his day shook his head. Severus, mouth fighting to snap closed, tried and failed to shake off the wordless _immobilus_. 

"It won't do, gentlemen. It really won't do." The door locked of its own accord with a quiet _snick_. "As Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts, I am of course familiar with the names of all Wizarding children born in Britain, whether or not their parents choose to send them to school. I would know if there were Princes in Yorkshire, or a male Cunningham of the appropriate age."

His voice deepened just enough to send icy prickles down Remus's spine. "The train will arrive in Heidelberg within half an hour, more or less. We have shared this compartment quite amicably, and I would very much like to know just who has ridden with me these past few hours."

A gentle nod, and Severus exhaled a word that probably had begun as "you" and came out as a grunting cough. Remus released the grip on his wand. Albus was more than capable of obliterating them both, so what was the point?

"Of course." Severus had dropped the upper class accent and was speaking in his normal, slightly Northern voice. "I had forgotten that you were the Deputy Head around this time. It's always the details that lead to mistakes."

"Quite," said Albus. His eyes were an almost glacial blue. "Time is passing, I'm afraid."

"You've no idea," murmured Remus. He rubbed his wand hand as a cramp set in. 

"Indeed." Severus ran his left hand back over his hair: _trust me._ "You were always a skilled Legilimens. Perhaps that would shorten matters."

Albus made a pleased little sound. Severus straightened his shoulders and let the older wizard look directly into his eyes. Their voices spoke almost in unison:

"_Legilimens!_"

The train whistle sounded, its shrillness muffled by the wind as they sped down the tracks. Remus cautiously pulled out his pocket watch: twenty minutes to Heidelberg. The two men were staring at each other, Albus with his hands in his lap, barely blinking, Severus tense as a piano wire, breathing shallow and quick. Footsteps were coming down the corridor, a conductor knocking politely on each door to remind passengers that they were almost at their destination. 

"My, my. How very enlightening." Albus, twinkle once more in place, broke the contact and handed Severus a medicinal chocolate. "I see that I shall have to clear out my memories when I return to Hogwarts in a few days. I have found it to be an excellent habit when my brain becomes a bit fuller than it ought."

The landscape had shifted to houses, some almost new, most old, interspersed with industrial buildings and more train tracks. Albus gathered his robes about him as they slowed and rose to his feet, beaming at the conductor through the interior window as he made his final rounds. Severus, lips slightly parted, stared up at him.

"Now, now. Do have a bite or two of the chocolate, dear fellow. It really will help." Albus winked at Remus. "You will find that the station is reasonably near the center of town, so you needn't worry about transportation to the museum."

His traveling cloak was remarkably sober, with only a floral pattern in pale blue and violet along the edges hinting at his customary flamboyance. "Ah, yes! I just remembered that Herr Doktor Grindelwald, senior, and his charming Frau have invited me to stay with them, so I won't be needing this. You will be quite comfortable, I'm sure."

Something cool, slim, and heavy appeared in Remus's hand: a brass hotel key marked **Hotel Zum Ritter St. Georg**. "Professor, we - "

"Thank you." Severus, pale but steady, clapped a hand on Remus's arm. "We were concerned about finding rooms in town."

"But - "

"Don't mention it." The door opened, and Albus joined the orderly crowd. "I will be in Berlin on the 20th handling some minor business before the wedding, so please feel free to contact me through Mr. Prewett at the Embassy. _Auf Wiedersehen!_"

Remus raised a hand in farewell. Severus, his usual sour expression once more firmly in place, yanked their bags from the shelf over his head. "You heard him. We need to find the hotel, and then we need to find that museum."

"Wait." Remus staggered backwards slightly as Severus shoved the larger of the suitcases at him. "How much - "

"_Muffliato_. He knows what we know, pathetic as that is." Severus all but slapped his forelock back into place. "We had to make contact, and we did. Whatever doesn't pertain to the task at hand will go straight into his pensieve when he's back in Scotland, where it probably will remain until he writes that letter to Minerva."

"Surely we should make arrangements to speak to him later, in private?" 

"Don't be a dunderhead. There's nothing more private than legilimency, which you would know if you'd studied that instead of the best way to blow up the Slytherin loo." Severus drew a hard, angry breath, muttered _finite incantatum_, and headed out into the station. 

"Now just a minute!" Remus caught up to him by a kiosk that sold _Der Stürmer_. "First of all, that was Peter, not me, since I'd almost bitten off my own leg and was still in the Infirmary." A blast of cold air, heavy with the promise of snow, blew through the concourse from the tracks. The chill felt good after the heat of the train. A snatch of someone singing Christmas carols echoed down from the high, rounded ceiling. 

"Second, _Michael_, that was years ago and I'll thank you not to bring it up _at this time._ We're not here to rehash what happened when we were snotty-nosed teenagers. If you can't remember that, perhaps you'd best work on this in Berlin while I - "

The vendor at the kiosk stared at them. He shook his head when he realized they were speaking English and went back to stacking afternoon dailies. Severus pulled a few coins out of his pocket and threw them onto the counter before appropriating a local broadsheet and striding off toward the entrance.

Remus followed, half-running to keep up. "I take it that means - "

"It means that you don't speak German, which would be rather a handicap." Severus settled his hat more firmly on his head before pushing at the main exit door. "Do you really think we can't trust him?"

"Of course we can." Remus lowered his voice until two girls in yet another uniform skipped past. Did no one in Germany wear their own clothes? "If he uses what he took from you and - "

"Cunning - John." The thin shoulders relaxed a notch. "He won't. We've already lived it, haven't we?"

Remus hesitated. Severus had a point, no matter how rudely delivered. "That we have."

It was snowing, great lazy flakes that had barely begun to stick. Despite the wizards and witches that had crowded the train, few of their fellow passengers had emerged from the station. Clearly there had been a nice, efficient, stereotypically German portkey station, and just as clearly they had walked straight past it.

"Let's head to the hotel and see about lunch before we go any further," said Remus. He held up the key. "I could fancy a pint."

Severus raised his arm and signaled to a cab. "For once I agree."


	4. Citrinatas

The Hotel Zum Ritter St. Georg turned out to be a landmark for both Muggles and Wizards. It had been built late in the sixteenth century and had reportedly hosted everyone from Christian Rosenkreuz to Griselda Marchbanks to a Muggle prince who had nearly lost his throne over a barmaid. Some parts were authentically old, others were late 19th century attempts at "feeling medieval," and the result was very quaint and full of what Severus sneeringly called _gemütlichkeit_. Even the elf who took their bags to the luxurious en-suite room that had been reserved for "Herr Professor Dumbledore" held himself so stiffly and spoke in such a stereotypical manner that Remus had to fight the urge to salute. 

They unpacked rather more quickly than was necessary, washed by turns, and ate lunch in a beautifully appointed dining room. The _Spezielles Wintermenü_ featured game in perfectly seasoned sauces, root vegetables, and sinfully rich desserts involving pastry cream and glazed fruits. Of course the waiter asked if they were planning to visit the Museum of Aryan Wizardry, and of course they said yes and were welcomed to Heidelberg on behalf of all Englishmen, everywhere, since their countries were such great friends. 

If it hadn't been the 19th of December Remus would have told Severus to go on ahead so he could nap for an hour or so; normally a good meal energized him, but normally he stayed home and slept late just before the new moon. He bought a vial of Pepper-Up at the hotel desk and dosed himself back in their room while Severus cleaned his teeth. It would make him irritable and he might need to take an antidote to sleep tonight, but he needed to be alert once they were in the castle. 

The hotel had complimentary maps and transit schedules for tourists who wished to visit the wonderful new museum, and after one wrong turn that almost took them into a Muggle neighborhood on wash day, they found themselves chugging up the Koenigstuhl in a quaint little funicular that was under such an effective Unplottable that it was invisible even to Wizards until one had bought a ticket. 

Severus did not say a word as they rose above the city, now white with snow. Remus moved to the window and watched Heidelberg unfold beneath them. The city was beautiful, all turrets and gables and the Neckar flowing peacefully beneath the ancient stone bridges. It was a living stereotype of Old Germany, and as it spread out beneath him Remus could almost ignore the occasional slash of red from a swastika flag.

_We shouldn't be here. Neither should they._

A woman, blonde and pretty, held a small child up to the window of their car get a better view. Her husband smiled and tousled the little girl's hair as a prosperous retired couple beamed at them. Change the language and they could have been on their way to the Royal Albert Hall for a Prom.

_Do they really have no idea?_

The funicular slid gently into place at its upper platform. A conductor, polite and correct, ushered them and their fellow passengers into a long but fast-moving queue. The Museum was free until New Year's, or so the newspaper had promised, and it seemed that half of Wizarding Germany had decided to take advantage and visit during the winter hols.

They were given multi-lingual programs and divided into twenty person groups at the entrance, with non-Germans placed according to native language. Each headed by a young, carefully coiffed woman in the gown and jewelry of a designated historical period, from the Germanic tribes who had triumphed over Rome to the courtiers of the Holy Roman Empire. It was all very Wagnerian and somewhat ridiculous, but at least the girls hadn't been stuffed into yet another uniform.

Severus frowned slightly as their guide, a statuesque girl with dark blue eyes and perfectly braided hair, curtsied and led them toward the galleries. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Museum of Aryan Wizardry. My name is Elise Seiler and I will be your guide through the museum this afternoon. We are honored to host you, and hope that you will learn much about our glorious history and culture." 

A corridor opened out into a huge, echoing room decorated to resemble a Teutonic great hall, complete with mead horns, straw on the floor, and the remains of a roast boar under a stasis charm at the head table. The guide ushered them to a vitrine containing musical instruments.

"Here we find a typical feasting hall of the Aryan chieftains who brought Germany its first glory. This horn, decorated with images of the god Heimdall, was used to summon warriors to defend Germany against invaders. It is of solid gold and has a permanent _Sonorus_ charm cast on it - "

Severus thinned his lips. One of their fellow tourists, a short, rather plump man in bespoke robes, muttered "Tommyrot!" under his breath. A woman tittered, and Fräulein Seiler paused. "If you have any questions? All of our exhibits were personally approved by Herr Reichsführer fur Zauberer Grindelwald himself, after consultation with the scientists of the Ahnenerbe to ensure their racial purity and scientific accuracy."

The air seemed to vibrate for a moment. The short wizard jumped as an equally short witch elbowed him in the ribs with a _sotto voce_, "Alfie, behave!" Fräulein Seiler laughed politely and waited for order to be restored before continuing. 

"The table is based upon the remains of one found at Externsteine…."

Remus did his best to maintain his silly-ass cover as the tour wandered from room to room. It was not easy; every artifact, from an Ottonian wand to a magnificent lindenwood statue of Merlin to the magical section of the Voynich Manuscript, might have been beautifully restored and expertly displayed, but the commentary ranged from speculative to the ridiculous. It was all he could do not to correct the guide when she claimed that werewolves were regarded as demi-gods by the priests of the Armanenschaft, and only Severus fixing him with a truly poisonous glare kept him from reacting to a statement that the Elector Palatine's alchemical grottos had been destroyed by Jewish sorcerers, not wrecked during the Thirty Years' War.

The last section of the tour was the so-called royal suite. According to the map in their museum brochures, it had been restored using a combination of temporal spells, divination, and the fragmentary records of the time. From the reverent way Fräulein Seiler paused in the Receiving Room, it was clearly something special.

"Here we have reached the restored family quarters of the Elector Palatine, later King of Bohemia, and his wife Elizabeth." The guide gestured at a doorway surmounted by the quartered arms of the Winter King and Queen. "She was the daughter of your English king James - "

"He was a Scot!" exclaimed a matron in a feathery hat, provoking mild chuckles from the rest of the group. The guide blinked, then joined in. 

"King James was a great man, supporter and protector of the Wizarding population. His daughter brought with her to Germany many books of magic, which were fortunately preserved." It would be rude to point out that the British monarch who had favored Wizards was Elizabeth, not James. "She also brought many interesting artifacts which Herr Reichsführer fur Zauberer Grindelwald has discovered and restored. Please come this way."

The first room was a huge, wood panelled hall with a long wooden table, chairs for at least fifty, and a fireplace big enough for both Hagrid and Madame Maxime, with room to spare. The table was set with plate so polished it almost hurt to see, a red and black tablecloth appliqued with swastikas, and centerpieces of knights and damsels surrounded by fragrant wreaths of holly and ivy.

"This is the Great Hall, used for banquets and to receive delegations from other countries. It is here that the Elector was petitioned by the Bohemians to become their king."

"Oh, what lovely tapestries! They look new." A stocky, middle aged woman with glasses and unfashionably long hair peered at heavy fabric lining the walls. "Did you manage to restore any period textiles?"

The guide beamed. "Yes, on Herr Reichsführer fur Zauberer Grindelwald's personal orders. These are on display in our next room. Please follow me if you wish to see."

The group obediently shuffled forward into a chamber painted with images from the Ring Cycle: Siegmund and Sieglinde recognizing each other, their initial embrace, Sieglinde nursing the newborn Siegfried, the young hero re-forging Nothung. Cartouches between each scene depicted handsome blond men as soldiers, farmers, athletes, fathers - 

"This is the bridal chamber of the Elector Palatine and the Princess Elizabeth Stuart." The guide's skirts swished over the woven floor mats as she approached the velvet ropes surrounding an age-darkened bed that could have held two couples with room to spare. "The bed was reclaimed for the Reich from a museum in Karlsruhe. The carvings were done under the supervision of the great alchemist Count Michael Maier and his students, to ensure fruitfulness and good luck. Graf Maier was a counselor and court wizard to the King of England and enchanted the bed before the marriage in 1613.

"The hangings of blue and white silk damask were rewoven to match a fragment of the original preserved in a private collection in Nuremberg. The embroidery shows the leopards of England and the crowned lion of the Palatinate. It was done by elves belonging to Rupert Maier, descendant of Herr Michael Maier. Herr Rupert Maier also generously restored the carvings according to the original spells - "

Severus had worked his way from the rear of the pack to the bed during the narration. He peered at the heardboard, frowned slightly, and scratched the outermost tip of his left eyebrow: _look_. Remus, smiling fatuously and tipping his hat to a bright-eyed, somewhat bucktoothed girl in a fur collar, pulled out his reading glasses and complied.

The Muggle Studies teacher in the 1970s had been a great believer in field trips to Muggle museums in Edinburgh, Inverness, and National Trust country houses. One of the trips in their seventh year had been to a castle that claimed to own the very bed where Henry VIII tried and failed to consummate his marriage to Anne of Cleves. The bed was carved with what the guide had called "fertility images," which was a polite way of saying "naked people shagging." Peter and Sirius had sniggered, Lily and James had gone scarlet, and Remus had done his best to ignore them all. It was only a bed, and if every naked figure on the headboard and the pillars was endowed like a Dutch porn star, well, at least they didn't _move_.

The same could not be said of this bed. Satyrs chasing nymphs, kings and queens writhing in a trough of flowing liquid, a washerwoman gasping as a richly dressed man bent her over her own wash tub, a stag tupping a doe as a wolf and a dog bayed at the waxing and waning moon - every figure, every object was in motion, from the coins sailing from a sower's bag into fertile ground to the pregnant god summoning the winds as a drapery fluttered away to reveal his heavy belly. The silk of the draperies was woven with pomegranates, rich and ripe and dripping with seeds, and the beautifully quilted counterpane seemed to tremble in anticipation as a man and a woman joined their hands and _something_ blossomed upward from their hands toward the sun and the moon and - 

"Sir, I must ask you to step back from the bed. The Reichsführer fur Zauberer and his bride are to spend their honeymoon in this chamber and the spells are delicate."

Remus yanked off his glasses and sucked in a breath. The carvings and hangings and quilt shimmered back into stillness as he rejoined the tour group behind the ropes. Severus, one corner of his mouth drawn up in a smirk, nodded. He folded his arms across his chest: _magic._

"Sorry," Remus said, removing his hat to smooth his hair back into place. The room smelt uncomfortably of dried reeds and new silk. "It's just so - "

"Speaking as a needleworker, I find it fascinating." The stout embroideress had hauled out a pad and a self-writing pencil that was scribbling notes in impromptu shorthand. "Is the quilt original or a copy? The motifs are like nothing I've seen before."

"The quilt is a copy of the one presented by the British Wizengamot to the Princess Elizabeth as a wedding gift. The original is too fragile for display despite extensive conservation by Herr Grindelwald's own elves." The guide smiled and gestured toward a side door. "_Mein Damen under Herren,_ if you would walk kindly through that door into the library - "

"The spells are patterned after the originals?" Severus drawled, sounding remarkably like a somewhat drunk Lucius Malfoy. "Fascinating, eh Cunningham?"

"Rather!" said Remus. He waited until most of the tourists had done as they were told to approach the guide, his best silly-ass expression plastered firmly in place as he bowed gallantly over her hand. "So sorry about nearly touching your exhibit, miss. Vertigo, don't you know. I should know better than to apparate this time of - "

She stiffened without warning and whipped her hand free. "Stefan?" Her rosy face had lost all color as she stared over his shoulder at Severus. "_Liebling? Bist du das?_

Severus's eyes widened as they met hers. He caught her hands just before she could throw her arms about his neck. "Stefan? _Nein, meine Name ist Michael - _ I'm sorry miss, I don't know what you mean. My name is Michael, not Stefan, and - "

"_Nicht Stefan? Sie ähneln ihm - _" Her brows drew together in a frown as she got a better look at Severus. "_Ach, mein Gott - Es tut mir so leid, verzeihen Sie mir - _"

"Miss? Are you all right?" The embroideress had wandered back into the room. "Good heavens, you look dreadful! Here, let me get a healer!"

"_Nein, nein_ \- " The guide, still ghastly pale, had recovered enough to pull back from Severus, the terrible hope in her eyes fading as he made no move to touch her. "No, thank you. It is the season, always I am a bit weak." She managed a shaky laugh and pressed a slim hand to her heart. "Here, let us go into the library. There are many interesting manuscripts, including Graf Maier's own copy of _Splendor Solis._ It is most beautiful, _nicht wahr?_"

The reed flooring muffled the faint _click-clack_ of their heels as the two women headed for the library. Remus waited until they were safely in the other room.

"Stefan?"

Severus had gone back to contemplating the bed. The carvings shifted and began to move again, the washerwoman now heavy with child, the sown field sprouting wheat, the king and queen naked except for their crowns, Latin words dancing across the surface - 

"Who is Stefan?"

"Not relevant." Severus blinked and stepped back behind the rope line as the carvings once again stilled. "We need to rejoin the tour."

"'Not relevant?' That girl nearly fainted! She recognized you, she - "

Severus grabbed his wrist, pulled him close enough that Remus could barely hear the rasping whisper. "Later, _Cunningham._ We can't talk here."

"_Und ist hier die Bettkammer des Kurfurst und seiner Braut Elisabeth - _"

Remus whirled, almost reaching for his wand. Another guide, this one blonde enough to be a Malfoy, had entered the room at the head of her own gaggle of visitors. She gave them a severe look, said something in German that made almost everyone in her group laugh, and started toward the bed with a determined stride. 

"Sorry, Miss. Cunningham here was having an attack of the vapors." Severus, scowling in disgust, grabbed Remus by the arm and all but dragged him toward the library. Remus pulled free at the threshold and took a moment to brush imagined lint from his arm as the Valkyrie began describing the wonderful bed and its wonderful hangings.

"You didn't - "

"I said later, didn't I?" Severus glanced over his shoulder at the brilliantly illuminated manuscripts laid out on a long table, each book gently cradled in a v-shaped stand. "This is not the place for - 

"Agreed." Remus tilted his head back slightly so he could look Severus directly in the eye. "But we _will_ talk."

"Right. Now would you please be quiet? We have to get through the rest of the tour." Severus waited until Remus reluctantly nodded to enter a library that Irma Pince would have killed to possess. 

The group had crowded about Fräulein Seiler as she went from book to book, pointing out the jeweled binding on one, the tooled arms of Britain and the Palatinate impaled on the other. The largest and best-preserved, a large folio, was open to a beautifully rendered landscape dominated by a black sun rising from a swamp. 

"Yes, Mr. - Palgrave, it was? _Ja,_ this is the Elector's own copy of _Splendor Solis_. It shows _nigredo_, the first stage in the transformation, when the base matter is burned black. It is then heated in _albedo,_ the second stage, often symbolized by a white queen, who is also associated with mercury and the moon - "

Severus gripped the doorframe, eyes narrowed as he listened to the practiced patter. "They can't - but how? Flamel's method - "

The embroidery expert wagged a finger at them. "Please, I'm trying to listen!"

Remus edged past him to get a better look at the images. Next to the _Splendor Solis_ was another book, this one with beautifully detailed alchemical engravings. The pages turned at a gesture from Fräulein Seiler: title page, music, a poem in Latin, _a pregnant god summoning the winds as a drapery fluttered away to reveal the fetus curled in his belly - _

"Excuse me, Miss Seiler?" Remus raised his hand. "This book, the one with the engravings."

"Yes?" A bit of color had crept back into her cheeks, although she deliberately did not look at Severus. "It is _Atalanta Fugiens_, a collection of alchemical illustrations, poems, and fugues by Graf Maier."

"My, he was a busy fellow!" exclaimed the embroidery expert. "I couldn't help noticing that the images are similar to those on the bed and the quilt. Was it deliberate, or can't you tell at this point?"

"Unfortunately the records of Graf Maier's work for the Elector were lost during the Thirty Years' War. Herr Rupert Maier believes it was deliberate, however."

There was a murmur from the doorway. Fräulein Seiler laughed and waved to her fellow guide, then led the way down a steep corridor. "We will not be able to view the garden due to the weather, but here is a scale model showing the grottos described in _Die Chemische Hochzeit von Christian Rosenkreutz_, which is believed to be based at least in part on the Elector Palatine's work here in Heidelberg."

The model was impressive, as much for its craftsmanship as for the carefully placed unicorn fountains, copies of statues showing transformation, and topiary shaped to look like peacocks, crowned lions, and rampant leopards. The patter was good, if slightly rushed, and soon enough the group had been ushered out to a tastefully appointed gift shop on the path leading to the funicular. Severus bought several picture postcards of the bridal chamber and the library while Remus listened to his fellow tourists gush over the magnificent building and its contents. 

The last purchaser had been rung up and was halfway to the tram when Fräulein Seiler, now in a flowing cloak worked with the arms of the Palatinate about the hem, emerged from the castle. She paled but made straight for them. 

“Good, you are still here.” She gazed intently up at Severus as if trying to memorize his features. “I must apologize for my behavior in the castle. We have been very busy preparing the Museum for visitors, and of course Herr Grindelwald’s wedding in two days has made much extra work.”

“That’s not necessary, Miss.” Severus looked distinctly uncomfortable. “It was an honest mistake.”

“No, I should not have behaved so. It is my job to make our guests welcome, and I have failed.”  
She hesitated, then scribbled something on a note and thrust it into Severus's hands. “I shall be here at 8:30 so we can talk more about my mistake. I will need to be in my dormitory by 10:00, but – “

“_Fräulein Seiler! Was machen Sie denn? Ihre nächste Gruppe wartet!_”

The girl jumped back as if shocked, coming to attention seemingly by reflex. Severus had gone pale again at the sharp words.

“What’s this? The gel was just telling us where to find a good pint. Nothing wrong with that, what?” Remus stuck out his hand at the tall, athletic blond who strode up, uniform cape flapping behind him. He was absurdly handsome, with chiseled features that could have come from a Greek statue, or at least the Nazi version of a Greek statue. His perfectly cut uniform enhanced his physique, and his boots were shined to an unnatural gloss.

“_Es tut mir leid, Herr Maier!_” Fräulein Seiler’s voice trembled slightly. “_Dieses Herr bat um die Adresse eines gutens Bierkeller. Ich habe die Zeit komplett, bersehen._”

“_Als so_.” Rupert Maier, who would be scarred for a life by a spell that wouldn’t exist for forty years, dismissed her with a gesture. He turned to Remus and Severus as she gathered her skirts and dashed toward the stairs leading to the entrance. “Forgive the girl, gentlemen. She is young and forgetful.”

“Come now, she was just being hospitable.” Remus pumped Maier’s strong, calloused hand. “No harm, I hope! Wonderful museum, just wonderful!”

“Thank you. We have worked hard to restore it to what it should have been,” said Maier. His English was pure RP, with the barest hint of an accent. “You are here for Christmas?”

“Probably not,” said Severus. He made a show of coughing into his handkerchief and rubbed his nose as if trying to ward off a sneeze. “We’re scheduled to go home by the 21st, unless Cunningham here has misread the portkey.”

“I see.” Maier frowned and turned away from Remus. “Pardon me, but have we met? Perhaps at Hogwarts or in London? You seem familiar, Mr. – “

“Prince,” said Severus. He did not make eye contact. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Mr. – Maier, was it? We’ve never met.”

Maier continued to frown. “Is that so? Perhaps my memory plays tricks on me.” He stepped back with a faint click of his heels. “Welcome to Heidelberg. I hope you will enjoy your stay.”

“No complaints so far,” said Remus cheerily, and took the hint. “Michael? Shall we?”

“Yes,” said Severus, and followed him to the funicular station as Albrecht Grindelwald’s right hand watched from the doorway.

Their room was quiet, clean, and seemingly untouched. That had meant nothing during the fight against Voldemort and would mean even less in a dictatorship. Remus nodded to Severus, who had barely acknowledged his existence on the way back to the hotel beyond a “pay the conductor, Cunningham” when they boarded the funicular, and began casting every detection spell he knew at the walls, floor, ceiling, and windows. Severus stared at him for a moment, then shook himself and began sweeping the en-suite bathroom, furniture, and cozy little fireplace. 

It was only after they’d checked their respective suitcases that Remus drew a sweeping circle about their bodies, snarled _conus silencio_, and asked the question that Severus had refused to answer in the Elector Palatine’s bedroom.

“Who’s Stefan?”

Severus peeled off his cloak and dropped it on the foot of his bed, then sank into the room’s only chair. His shoulders were hunched as if breathing hurt, and there were dark, ugly circles under his eyes. “It’s complicated. I doubt you’d understand.“

“No excuses, Severus. No more.” Remus grabbed the arms of the chair and leaned forward until their faces nearly touched. “You’ve been acting odd ever since we arrived in Germany, and I don’t think it’s the time shift or meeting Albus.” He narrowed his eyes. 

“One last time, Severus. Who’s Stefan?”

Severus leaned back as far as he could. Remus was close enough to see the faint traces of teenage acne pitting the one cheek. “You can’t tell anyone about this. Not Potter, not Nymphadora, not even Minerva.”

It might have been the Pepper-Up speaking, or operating in the dark. Remus counted to ten and reminded himself that they had both signed the letter to Albus. “You told Dumbledore, whether or not he sticks it in his pensieve when he goes back to Hogwarts.” 

“Albus is dead in our time, in case you’d forgotten.” Severus bared his teeth. “Minerva is alive. She doesn’t know this, and that will _not_ change.”

“Unless Stefan is actually a code name for Grindelwald or one of his minions, I don’t see that it matters.“

“It has nothing to do with my life now.” Severus brought up his hands and shoved Remus back a few inches. “Promise or I say nothing.”

“We’re meeting Fräulein Seiler in two hours. Don’t go all pissy on me, Severus, or I’ll – “

“Say it, Lupin. _Say it._”

Remus pushed off from the chair with a curse. “I won’t repeat this conversation to Minerva when we get back. Are you satisfied, or do you want my oath in blood?”

Severus made a rude noise. “Don’t be ridiculous. I got all the blood I’ll ever want from you during your teaching days.”

It wasn’t worth it, getting his back up over yet another insult. Remus threw up his hands in disgust and wondered why he bothered. “All right. Now that we’ve reached an agreement, talk. Who is Stefan?”

Severus breathed deep to steady himself. “’Stefan’ is almost certainly Stefan Steinberg. If you’d paid attention in History of Magic you’d know the name.”

“Stefan – “ An all but forgotten paragraph from one of Binns’ supplemental lectures came to mind. “He tried to stop the Nazis, didn’t he? And of course they arrested him and – “

“He was the only son of a bookseller in Karlsruhe, south of here.” Severus had reverted to his teaching voice, precise and lecturing. He gripped the arms of his chair a bit harder than necessary. “From everything that I’ve heard, he was very brave and very handsome, and when the thugs came on Kristallnacht to burn the Wizarding quarter of Karlsruhe, he was one of the few who resisted. Most Jews had had their wands confiscated so it was supposed to be a nice, easy job.”

Remus waited for the inevitable joke about brave, loyal, stupid Gryffindors. Instead, Severus summoned the pitcher of ice water that had been waiting under a preservation charm all day. His hands shook slightly as he poured himself a glass and drank.

“Stefan – somehow he’d acquired a wand. It might have been his, or it might have been his father’s, or his grandfather’s. His girlfriend was only half-Jewish and was passing for Gentile, so she might have gotten one to him. Ultimately it doesn’t matter.

“When the rioters attacked, Stefan was there, primed with a charm that would reflect hostile spells back at their casters. Supposedly the rioters never knew what hit them.” Severus's voice dropped for an instant. “For a few minutes it looked as if the Jewish quarter was safe.” 

He stared at a worn spot on the carpet. “If it had only been Wizards, he might have succeeded. But when the gangs called for reinforcements – “ 

“And – good God. I remember this part.” The Burning of Karlsruhe had led to calls throughout Wizarding Europe for intervention in Germany, to the point that the Parlement in Toulouse had dropped immigration requirements for German Jews. Even the isolationists in America had been shocked enough to offer asylum, although without Congressional approval it hadn’t done much good. “They called the Muggles, didn’t they? With their guns and their petrol.”

“Yes. The whole Wizarding quarter burned, including the homes and shops belonging to Gentiles. The casualties were enormous.” An engine roared to life in the street. “Stefan was disarmed, beaten unconscious, shot, and taken to Sachsenhausen. He died there a few weeks later of his injuries, or so the records indicated after the war.

“His parents tried to flee, but they were caught near the border and went missing until the father showed up in a DP camp in 1945. His mother disappeared and probably died in the camps, although there are no records under her name."

Seerus stopped and took another long, long drink. “Rebecca, the Steinbergs' younger child, was smuggled out and sent to England as part of the Kindertransport program. She was raised by a British family, changed her name, and wasn’t reunited with her surviving family until after she was an adult. By then she'd married an English and was expecting her only child.” Severus ran his hand through his fringe as if trying to finger-comb it, lips twisting as he remembered that his hair wasn’t long anymore. “Her son didn’t learn of his true parentage until after her death.”

“Changed her name?” Remus went cold inside. _A headstone with the wrong name, a grave in the wrong cemetery - _

“Severus. You don’t – “

“Albus was right about the Princes. They were a nice, respectable couple who had always wanted children and welcomed the opportunity to raise a little refugee. One can’t fault them for thinking that ‘Rebecca’ sounded too Jewish for a well-bred British family. Mrs. Prince’s mother was named Eileen and she’d longed for a little girl, so Rebecca Steinberg became Eileen Prince.” Severus could barely be heard over the traffic noise from the street. “Mum told me her family was Pureblood, and Jewish, but the first time I met my grandfather was at her funeral. My father didn’t like ‘foreigners’ and wouldn’t let her see what relatives survived the war once he learned they weren’t English.”

Suddenly it all made sense: the dark boy with the familiar smirk, Severus's behavior, Fräulein Seiler’s reaction to seeing Severus - 

“They’re all your family, aren’t they? Stefan, Rebecca, the boy in that old photo.”

Severus had not looked so desolate since that awful night the first War had ended. “Yes. Stefan Steinberg, the hero of Karlsruhe, was my uncle, and I didn’t even know it until I was fifteen.”

A coal settled in the fireplace, displacing a hibernating salamander. Remus leaned closer, hands clasped between his knees.

“I never suspected,” said Remus. No photos of Stefan Steinberg were known to exist beyond a Durmstrang quidditch team group shot, where he had been one of a trio of slim dark-haired Chasers. The blurred illustration of the Burning in their Hogwarts textbook was a stock photo from the European Wizarding Press that showed flames leaping up from the Wizarding synagogue. “None of us did. If we’d known – “

“If you think your little friends would have respected me because of an uncle I never met, you’re even more deluded than I’d suspected.” Severus heaved himself out of the chair and crossed to the window. The cone of silence pulled Remus forward until he stood almost touching the other man. “All I knew was that I’d been named for an uncle who’d died. It’s a Jewish custom, giving one’s child a name with the first initial of a dead relative. My father was furious, but he didn’t find out until after she’d registered the name and had me circumcised, and the less said about _that_ the better." 

He swept the curtains open and gazed down into street. Well dressed Germans hurried back and forth. “It was one of many things they fought about, even years later. They’d married because Mrs. Prince had found out she was dying and wanted Mum to have someone to look after her, and my father was the sole prospect in sight for a homely girl who cared only for gobstones and potions.” Severus made a noise that could have been a laugh or a stifled sob. “By then it didn’t matter that he wasn’t a Wizard. Maurice Prince had died at Arnhem so they were quite alone.”

There had been rumors when they were at school that Severus had had a miserable home life, even though no one had twigged to Tobias Snape being a Muggle. But this – surely someone had known? Or suspected? Sirius at the least would have picked up on anything he could use as ammunition against Severus, but never once had he used a racial slur against Severus, even when they were upper formers and Lily had started keeping company with James.

"Your grandfather. He was friendly with Grindelwald? Even though he was Jewish?"

Three boys in military versions of Durmstrang uniforms made their way through the crowds in what looked like a security sweep. The Muggles probably thought they were yet another Nazi organization. "When they were young, yes. He was Grindelwald’s best man at his first wedding, which is how I know about that, but no one seems to know what happened. Possibly they quarreled during the Great War. 

"A few years later Grindelwald joined the Nazis and divorced his first wife, so I doubt they stayed in touch. It wasn’t exactly something one could discuss with my grandfather, not that he lived long enough to do more than teach me a few prayers and introduce me to a Liberal rabbi in case I decided to start practicing Judaism." Something flared in the dark eyes for a moment - pain? disgust? anger? - and then was replaced by a faint scowl. 

“As you’ve likely guessed, I favor my mother’s family, not that there are any left besides my cousin Esther and her family in America. I wish Minerva had thought to cast a glamour on my face so half Germany wouldn’t instantly think I’m my grandfather or my uncle, but there’s no help for it now. A wizard as powerful as Rupert Maier would see through any disguise you or I could set.”

Remus laid a hand on his shoulder, more out of reflex than anything else. It was a surprise when Severus didn’t automatically flinch away. “I don’t know much about temporal theory – “

“Surprise, surprise.”

“Oh, shut it for once.” Severus had spoken without heat, and Remus returned the favor. “All I meant was that since we’ve already sent that letter to Albus, clearly we succeeded in whatever we’re supposed to do. We’ve a few hours before we’re supposed to meet Fräulein Seiler, so we might as well rest and have something to eat. You must be half-starved, the way you picked at your lunch.”

“It was wild boar,” Severus murmured. He still hadn’t knocked Remus's hand from his shoulder. “Normally it doesn’t matter to me, but when I learned we’d be in Nazi Germany – “ He wet his lips. “I can’t save my uncle or my grandmother or any of my other relatives, but at the very least I don’t have to eat like a German. 

"Utter nonsense, of course.”

“I think I understand,” said Remus. The last trace of anger had dissipated as he tried to imagine what Severus would have been like if war and disruption hadn’t ruined his mother’s life. Could they have been friends? “My mother lives in America, you know, and a friend of hers hunts. I’ve never yet had any of the venison.” 

Severus cut his eyes toward Remus at the veiled reference to James. “Sentimental fool. Not that I’m any better.”

“As long as we can disrupt whatever Grindelwald is planning for his wedding, does it matter?” Remus finally released him and summoned the room service menu. “Let’s see. More chicken, sausage, _Hasenpfeffer_ \- “

“Rabbit.”

“Something Kraut – “

“Cabbage.”

“I know that, Severus. _Wiener Schnitzel_ is veal, I believe. Would that do?”

Severus nodded. He slumped back into the chair and closed his eyes, utterly spent. “We need to rewrite that letter. The one to Albus.”

“We can’t until we know what Grindelwald is planning. Let it go until we’ve met with Fräulein Seiler.” Remus tapped the menu with his wand to order two portions of _Schnitzel_ and two glasses of the local beer. “By the by, should I be calling you Theo instead of Michael? That’s how you signed the letter.”

“Only if you’re now ‘Wolfi,’” said Severus. He yawned and squirmed into a comfortable position. “My grandfather’s name was Theodor. It’s as good a code name as any.”

“True,” said Remus. “What do you think of _Linzer torte_ for dessert? Is it any good?” 

Severus made a little _mmph_ noise and did not move. Remus thought for a moment, then carefully draped one of the coverlets over his legs. He picked up one of the papers they had bought when they’d arrived in Heidelberg and began to read.


	5. Rubedo

The beer cellar was near the university, which meant that it was crowded, noisy, and stuffed with clean-cut youths hoisting huge steins of beer and doing their best to look sophisticated as they puffed on unfiltered cigarettes. A surprising number had thin red or white slashes marring their beardless cheeks. The few women present were either waitresses in low cut bodices or fresh-faced girlfriends, and Remus wondered why Fräulein Seiler had asked to meet them there.

His puzzlement must have shown, for Severus made the gesture for _Muggles_ as they were led to their table. Remus nodded, gave their waitress his most feckless grin, and slid into a booth near a wall painted with scenes of Olde Heidelberg and the original student prince. What appeared to be dueling club banners and photos of fencing teams hung proudly above tables, windows, and a huge porcelain fireplace.

“_Guten abend, mein Herren,_” said a soft voice to Severus's right. “I am sorry if I am late.”

“Not at all.” Remus rose as Fräulein Seiler, in a loden cloth coat and matching hat, dropped the chameleon charm and took the seat next to Severus. “We just arrived.”

Severus made the gesture for Bill Weasley’s most powerful spell suite. The lights dimmed and the crowd noise faded to a barely perceptible murmur. Fräulein Seiler sucked in a breath, eyes wide.

“It is safe now?”

“As safe as we can make it,” said Remus. He leaned across the table and took her hands. They were ice cold despite the fine leather gloves she had removed as soon as she’d taken her seat. “Are you all right?”

“As well as anyone can be in this time.” Her voice was too young to be so weary. She turned to Severus, a sort of desperate yearning in her eyes. “Stefan – I know now you are not him, even though there is a resemblance – you are related, yes? I thought so - your face is too thin and you lack his – I have not the word." She stopped, swallowed hard.

“He is dead, is he not? Herr and Frau Steinberg took little Rebecca and fled when the riots began, but Stefan owled me to say he meant to stay and fight, that the Jews needed to resist.” The tears began, silently pouring down her cheeks as she fought for control. “I have read the papers. I know what happened to Karlsruhe. _Stefan, mein Herz, mein liebling - _”

Severus thrust a handkerchief in her direction. She grabbed it and held it to her face as he hesitantly patted her shoulder. “I am sorry for your loss, Fräulein. He was a brave man.”

“Here, have some water.” Remus conjured a glass and waited for her to drink a few sips. “We didn’t mean to upset you.”

A waitress drifted past, looking puzzled as the disillusionment charm masked the table. Fräulein Seiler dabbed at her eyes. “I knew in my heart that he was gone when he did not owl me after the riots. We could not see each other in Heidelberg because Jews are now forbidden at the University, but we met in other places when we could.”

She snapped her fingers, and a faded photograph of her with a man who could have been Severus's younger brother appeared. They were posed on a stone balustrade, her in a flowery summer dress, him in a Muggle-style pinstriped suit, the wind blowing her silky hair back from her face. He turned to kiss her cheek, tenderly stroking her curls into place. She laced her fingers through his and nuzzled his palm.

“This was the day he asked me to marry him, the last summer he was able to attend classes.” She stroked the picture as if she could somehow touch her lover again. “The ZSS did not question my blood since I am only part Jew, but Stefan’s family was too prominent for him to pretend to be Aryan. Herr Steinberg wanted to bribe the officials for Stefan and Rebecca’s sake, but it could not have worked.”

“I’d wondered why they stayed so long,” said Severus. He met her eyes for the first time. “It made no sense after the Nuremberg Laws.”

“Herr Steinberg had known Reichsführer fur Zauberer Grindelwald at Durmstrang and he thought he would be safe. Even when Stefan was sent down from university, his father thought all would be well.

“The night of the riots – “ She dabbed at her eyes again. “I wanted to go to him, but one of the other guides asked why I cared about the filthy, stinking Jews. I was too afraid of what would happen to me to tell her that she had shared a room with a filthy Jew. I am ashamed, but what good would it do?”

_”Why did you do that? He wasn’t bothering us!”_

_Sirius rolled his eyes. “He was thinking about it, Moony. You know him, always sneaking and spying and – “_

_“Debagging him in front of the school?” Remus smacked the desk in front of his friend. “Lily’s furious at both of you, and I hear Robinton over in Hufflepuff is getting up a petition to have you sent down.”_

_“Robinton’s an ass.” Sirius pulled out a cigarette, lit it with a snap of his fingers, and grinned. “Save the whales one week, save Snape’s bony arse the next – she’ll find another cause, something stupid like elf rights or mandrake cruelty.”_

_Remus yanked the cigarette away and threw it in the fire. “You’re not supposed to smoke in the Common Room, you berk. What’s wrong with you?”_

_“Me? What’s wrong with you?” Sirius cuffed him on the prefect’s badge. “Since when do you go all pissy on me? And since when do you give a shit about Snape? Especially after the way he treated Lily?”_

_“There’s no excuse for that, but – “_

_“Look.” Sirius draped a friendly arm over his shoulders. “Snape’s already turned on his so-called ‘best friend.’ If we don’t keep him in his place he might just blab your furry little secret to everyone. I don’t think any of us want that, do we?”_

_Remus pulled away. What would he do if Severus did tell? Papa wasn’t well, and if Remus was sent down - _

A shout of laughter, muffled by the privacy spells, roused him from memory. Fräulein Seiler had reverted to German and seemed to be apologizing to Severus, who was listening intently. They both started at the noise, then relaxed slightly as the group of laughing students began singing and banging their steins together.

“Stefan would have wanted you to be safe,” said Severus at last. He made a face as one student swayed to his feet and all but fell into a plate of sausages, then remembered himself and turned back to Fräulein Seiler. “I must ask, Miss Seiler. Why did you want to meet us tonight? Your job at the museum – “ 

“My job is not safe. Neither am I.” She glanced at the students, paling as she recognized one of the more sober ones. “That one – Erich. He is related to Herr Reichsführer fur Zauberer’s – fiancée? – and works at the Museum in the Armory, restoring the weapons. He hated Stefan, always, and would ask why I did not keep company with him instead of a Jew. 

“Never have I told him I was Jewish, but I think he suspects. My supervisor has asked for my family records and my book of work so she can check my ancestry. I am certain Erich is behind it, since his family made a large donation to restore the tapestries in the bridal chamber.”

She picked up the gloves, twisted them in her hands, and let them drop onto the table. “There is something large planned for the wedding day. We all know this, for Herr Maier has invited the great wizards of the Reich to attend and assist, as well as the Führer himself and Reichsführer-SS Himmler. A witch has set strange spells on the chapel and the bridal chamber, ones I have never heard before, and – “

_Hitler_ would be there? Remus leaned forward. “You’re certain of this? Both Himmler and - ”

Severus gestured for silence. “The bridal chamber. You said during the tour that Herr Grindelwald and his bride will spend their wedding night there, in the Elector Palatine’s bed. Is this true, or will they be staying somewhere else?”

“It is true.” Fräulein Seiler nodded. “They will marry according to the rites of the Reichskirche and spend the night in the bridal chamber. Herr Grindelwald and Herr Maier will escort them to bed, and Herr Maier is then to lead all the wizards in a great working while the marriage is – fulfilled?”

“Consummated,” supplied Remus.

“Yes, that is it! Consummate!” she exclaimed. “Herr Grindelwald hopes for a son, or so Erich has said. It is to be a ‘chemical wedding’ like that of the Elector and the Princess Elizabeth.”

“Chemical wedding?” Severus seized her hand, gazed into her eyes with an intensity that shocked Remus. Fräulein Seiler gasped but did not pull free. “You’re certain that’s the term your – Erich – used?”

“_Ja,_he said ‘chemical.’” Her voice had begun to shake as Severus continued to stare at her. Remus lunged forward and gave him a shake when he realized what Severus was doing. 

“Michael! Let her be! She clearly doesn’t know any more about it!”

Severus smacked his hand away with a hiss but broke the legilimantic gaze. “A chemical wedding. Do either of you have the slightest idea what that means?”

The girl shook her head. Remus slowly lowered himself back into his seat. “No. Perhaps you’d care to tell us?”

Severus folded his arms across his chest and gave them the same long, cold look he’d used on his less intelligent students. “A chemical wedding is a form of living alchemy. It uses certain spells, imagery, and formulations to ensure immediate conception of offspring with specific characteristics. It was formerly used on behalf of Muggle royalty that wanted a son, or Pureblood families that wished to produce a child with a certain type of talent, such as a wandmaker or a Healer.”

Remus frowned. “So Grindelwald wants a son. So what? Plenty of old families want their firstborns to be sons. Look at the Malfoys.”

“You don’t understand. The spells on the bed and the bedding – “ Severus smacked at his hair in frustration. “Yes, Grindelwald intends a chemical wedding. That’s obvious. But what sort of chemical wedding? What is the point of the Nazi breeding experiments?”

Fräulein Seiler answered almost by reflex. “The ultimate goal of a Wizarding marriage in the Reich is healthy children of pure blood, both magical and German.” She flushed as both men stared at her. “That is what they teach us in the BDM, the _Bund Deutsche Maedel_. A woman is to be a good mother to children who will serve the Reich and the Führer. I do not believe this myself because I know that many great witches never have children, or have come from other lands than Germany, but this is what they say.”

“Healthy children of pure blood,” Severus repeated. His voice had slowed and deepened as if to emphasize his words. “A child conceived on the Solstice in an alchemical union, in a bed intended for an English princess with Welsh and Scots blood, covered with fertility magic, with the assistance of a working involving the most powerful Wizards in Germany _and_ Hitler himself. 

“Cunningham, you’re allegedly a specialist in Dark magic. What do you think Grindelwald has in mind?”

_”Gaudeamus igitur, juvenes dum sumus! Gaudemaus igitur, juvenes dum – dumkopf! Fritzl! Idiot!_

The braying students could have been on another planet. “You aren’t serious. Merlin was unique.“

“There were other Wizards just as powerful on the Continent, or so the Nazis believe.” The drawn, exhausted look was gone, replaced by tightly controlled rage. “Unless I’ve completely misinterpreted the spell suite on that bed, Grindelwald means to breed a Wizard of that caliber on his wedding night. Unlike Merlin, the child will of course be raised as a good little Nazi and trained by the Darkest Wizards of his time.”

“Merlin – he was the most powerful wizard of Britain, yes?” said Fräulein Seiler. “Like Wieland or Freya.” Her grief had yielded to curiosity. “But this – Herr Grindelwald is powerful, but Erich has said that his cousin is barely more than a Squib. She was trained at home in domestic spells, no more.” 

“A passive vessel, the most powerful Wizards in Germany, and Hitler himself.” Severus transfigured a knife into a pencil with a flick of his hand and began to scribble arithmantic equations onto the tablecloth. “What do you think, Cunningham?”

The formulae were hard to follow, especially sketched out on rumpled cloth. But if Severus was even partially right – 

“A son who had the hereditary gifts of _all_ of them, including Hitler’s charisma.” Remus swallowed a sudden rush of nausea. “It’s just possible. Someone like that would be unstoppable in a duel, or almost anything else. The Ministry, the Deuxieme Magique, even the Americans – they wouldn’t stand a chance against that sort of raw power.” He rubbed his temples and fought to remember lessons from a Muggle history book. “Hitler has no children. Could this child be intended as his _successor_?”

Severus brought his hands together in mock applause. “Very good, Cunningham. Even if you’re wrong, I can’t think of another reason for Hitler to leave his cozy little nest in the Alps to attend an assistant’s assistant’s wedding just before Christmas.”

Fräulein Seiler blanched. “This is horrible! I had no idea – I thought the Museum would preserve and teach, not – not this. It is abominable, it cannot be allowed!”

Remus raised a finger, drew a quick anti-clockwise circle in the air: _disrupt?_ Severus considered, then shook his head. 

“Not enough of us, if that’s what you’re thinking. We’d have to sabotage the spells on the bed, and how could we get in long enough to do that? The castle is almost as secure as Hogwarts.”

“Gentlemen!” Elise Seiler grabbed their wrists. There was a terrible hope in her eyes as she turned to Severus. “This is easy. I will get you into the castle tomorrow night, the day before the wedding. We will be closed to the public but I have the passwords for all gates since I am to serve at the table.”

The room seemed lighter, and Remus had to concentrate to renew the disillusionment charms. “That would work, I think.”

“Perhaps.” Severus cocked his head, listening as the boisterous singing in the beer hall faded back to a soft roar. “Or perhaps it’s too easy. Why did you trust us so readily, and why are you offering to help us? For all you know we’re Gestapo or ZSS.”

She shrugged. “I have seen Fräulein Ilse. She is young, younger than I am, and she acts as though she fears Herr Grindelwald more than she loves him. If this helps her, I will be happy.

“Besides, my parents live abroad, in America, and my Stefan is dead. What do I have to lose by trusting you? I wanted to leave Germany after the night of broken glass but I stayed to find Stefan. Without him I have no reason to stay and much reason to go.” She shrugged again, resignation in every line of her body. 

Remus closed his eyes. Clearly this was the “certain young Fräulein who wished to study abroad,” and clearly they had – would – trust – trusted her. “Prince. I think we should take Fräulein Seiler – “

“Please, call me by my name.”

“Elise up on her offer.”

Severus waved his hand across the table to erase the writing. The knife/pencil he tucked into his robes. “Indeed.” He laid his hands on Elise’s shoulders and looked directly into her eyes, this time without magic.

“It will be very dangerous. Do you understand this? We might all be killed, or sent to the camps. You should join your parents in America.”

She shook her head. “My parents were allowed to sponsor my brothers since they are underage but their Undersecretariat said that I had to apply separately.”

“Quotas,” said Remus. He lowered his voice as the disillusionment charm faded again. “You’d best go, Miss – Elise. When and where?”

“There is a sally port near the funicular station. I will be there at half past eleven.” Elise murmured a word and seemed to melt into her seat. “_Auf wiedersehen!_”

There was a roar of laughter across the room as a fresh-faced youth banged his fist on his table and began leading a chant of _Herr Ober! Herr Ober!_ A waitress, older than the students but still likely under thirty, hurried up with two foaming steins carved with hunting scenes.

“_Guten abend, mein Herren! Wilkommen! Haben sie ein Menu?”_

_“Danke schoen,_” said Severus. “Cunningham? Did we want to see a menu?”

“Only if they have something that isn’t pickled,” said Remus. He wrinkled his nose as a rotund man in an apron presented the drunks with a platter of redolent fish. “When in Rome and all that.”

“Indeed.” Severus took his first sip of beer, held it in his mouth for instant, and nodded approvingly. “Satisfactory, given the circumstances."

“Agreed,” said Remus, following suit.

They slept well that night, thanks largely to the sleeping potions Severus had tucked into their luggage in the Hog’s Head. Breakfast here included a lavish spread of fruit and fresh, glossy pastries, tasty blood sausages that Severus shoved across the table at Remus, a self-filling pot of strong black coffee, and fresh orange juice. Yesterday’s elf, still starched and formal to the point of caricature, brought them the morning papers in German and English, along with a small multilingual guide to the non-Wizarding sections of the city.

They left the hotel together, making sure to keep up a brisk chatter about what museum or church was a must-see. Two blocks from the hotel they split up, Severus toward the Wizarding quarter and an apothecary, Remus to a Muggle kitchenware shop to purchase glassware and cooking equipment that could double as a field-expedient cauldron, beaker, stirring rod, and flask. 

Of course the shopkeeper was delighted to serve an Englishman, and of course the only items that would serve were painted with scenes of Olde Heidelberg and the Student Prince. Remus pretended that they would make a perfectly charming wedding gift for his non-existent cousin Davina, agreed that Heidelberg was beautiful in the winter, and nodded enthusiastically as the shopkeeper praised Neville Chamberlain as a great politician and statesman. Severus would insist on performing a sterilization spell before he started to work, and God willing that would be end of the hand-painted kitsch.

Remus dodged two harried women as he made his way through the _Christmarkt_. The locals were selling Christmas ornaments, candles, gingerbread, clocks, hand carved wooden items, books, toys…everything one might need for a lovely Christmas. The few tourists were almost all American or British, with the occasional Italian or Swede asking for the price in halting German. There wasn’t a swastika in sight, and Remus found himself breathing a bit easier as he neared the hotel.

_Let’s hope Severus is right about what happens when one sprinkles contraceptus on a quilt with alchemical spells. If he’s wrong - _

The doorman bowed and clicked his heels as he entered the hotel. Remus tipped his hat and headed for the lift. _It’s Severus. Of course he’s not wrong. When has he ever failed when it came to potions?_

He refused to let himself think that there was a first time for everything, even when Severus informed him in a distracted voice that the local apothecary was out of one or two ingredients for the standard recipe and he’d have to improvise. If anyone could do it, Severus could.

Or so he told himself as he made his way down to the reading room on the ground floor to go over the newspapers.

The rest of the day was a classic example of what the Quidditch team had always described as “hurry up and wait” – warm up, go over strategy, get dressed, and then sit for half an hour staring at the locker room walls while the stands filled with students, professors, and alumni. Remus worked his way through every newspaper in English, twice, then the small selection of contemporary novels (it ran heavily to the lesser works of Hugh Walpole and family sagas about the glorious English countryside and its kindly, somewhat stupid denizens). He went out for lunch merely to have something to do, and by the time dinner was served in the main dining room, he would have welcomed an attack by time traveling Death Eaters simply for something to do.

Severus met him at their table. He looked haggard but satisfied, and Remus tucked into his dinner with more appetite than he’d expected. “Did you have a good day?”

“Better than expected,” came the reply as Severus cut himself a slice of beef. “Yourself?”

“I’ll never read Walpole again, but other than that, not bad.”

“Walpole? His diaries are rather – “

“Not Horace. The novelist. Remember, the one Maugham skewered?”

“Oh.” Severus chewed and swallowed. “_That_ Walpole. Never liked him.”

“I don’t blame you,” said Remus. “I can see why Belloc preferred P.G. Wodehouse. Bertie Wooster may be an idiot, but at least he knows he’s an idiot.”

“I prefer Sayers myself,” said Severus. “The short story with the crossword in the swimming pool was – “

And so it went. They slept for a few hours, carefully packed up everything that could be traced, and left enough Reichsmarks to cover the bill, largely at Remus's insistence. The letter to Albus was carefully tucked into Severus's robes next to the precious doses of _contraceptus_ by the time Remus had transfigured the extra towels and pillows into two simulacra, one a werewolf, the other a half-Jewish apothecary. A chameleon charm later and they were out a side door and heading toward the funicular, two unassuming figures in the dark of a winter night. 

By tomorrow night they would be home, and safe. Or not. But either way, it would be over.

Elise, in the same dark green coat and hat she’d worn the previous night, was waiting as promised by the sally port. She glanced quickly from side to side as they approached, then gestured them inside. “The castle is being inspected tonight, so we do not have much time. They have finished the bridal chamber just now so we should be able to work.”

“Good.” Severus pulled out two identical vials and handed one to Remus. “If I’m interrupted, for any reason, pour this onto the quilt over the King and Queen. It should counteract the fertility charm long enough that Grindelwald’s firstborn won’t be conceived for a few more days.”

“In other words, after the working tomorrow night,” said Remus. Elise was all but running up the stairs to the bridal chamber, her heels clicking on the worn stone. Severus, fit and lean from all those summer hikes, was right behind her as they passed through the library, murmuring instructions in a mixture of German and English. Remus ignored the grinding pain in his bad knee and did his best to keep up.

The bedroom was dark except for a low fire crackling on the hearth. The velvet ropes had been removed and a wreath of winter greens had been placed carefully on the headboard, directly over the impaled arms of the Elector and his bride. The little carved figures stirred sleepily as Remus approached, their motion speeding up as Elise joined him by the bed. The washerwoman batted her eyes at the lord and wiggled her hips seductively, the wind began to stir the pregnant giant’s cloud air, the queen’s belly tightened as labor began – 

_ \- woman ripe fertile ready take kiss cub mate claim - _

“Both of you. Away from the bed _now_.” Severus grabbed his arm and hauled Remus backward. Remus gasped, fingers going to his lips as he realized how close he had come to kissing Elise and dragging her straight onto the charmed bed for a tumble. “I was afraid of this.”

Elise, scarlet from shame, made a little tortured sound and half-stumbled to a chair. “I – what did I do? Stefan – “

“It was nothing to do with either of you,” said Severus. His brows knotted as he glared at the now-motionless bed. “There must be a variation of _amor maxima_ on the bedding. Any couple who got too close would be hard pressed not to tear off their clothes and start fornicating immediately.”

“But – that cannot be,” said Elise. Her lips were slightly swollen, and Remus wondered if he’d actually kissed her while under the effects of the spell. “Nothing like this has happened with the tourists.”

“The tourists kept behind the rope line, didn’t they?” Severus moved forward, step by cautious step, until he stood directly beside the bed. The carvings and embroideries did not move. “It seems to have been there for a reason.”

“Why aren’t you triggering it?” Remus watched as he carefully uncorked the vial of _contraceptus_ and began shaking it onto the beautifully quilted spread, drop by drop. “I wasn’t near a woman yesterday when the damn thing began to move.”

Severus drew a complicated pattern over the medallion and chanted something in a low, harsh voice. The King and Queen flared briefly, then froze, their hands not quite touching over the egg-shaped Philosopher’s Stone. Severus took a deep breath and waited as the pattern sank completely into the cloth and disappeared. He wiped sweat from his brow and held out his hand for the other vial. “On the bridal wreath, just in case – there. That should do it.” 

He turned to Elise. “This may not help Fräulein Ilse in her marriage, but her child will not be a monster. It is the best I can do.”

“_Danke schoen_,” Elise said. A chime sounded: the half hour. “We must go now, they are to check the kitchen next, and the stables. _Schnell, schnell!_”

Remus hung back as she hurried them through the door out into the corridor. Severus moved slowly, as if affecting the alchemical bed had drained him. His hair had gone alarmingly limp under its coating of brilliantine. “You never said why you were immune to the bed.”

“Very simple. Elise is a young, fertile woman, and you’ve had lovers of both sexes – don’t give me that wide-eyed look, it was common knowledge that you took up with Charlie Weasley for a few weeks after Nymphadora threw you over.”

“Dora and I broke up by mutual consent, not that it’s any of your business,” said Remus. They were in the feasting hall now, halfway down the table where Germany’s greatest wizards and senior Nazis would gather to celebrate a chemical wedding. “But yes, Charlie and I had a fling. That doesn’t have a bloody thing to do with you being immune to the – “

“Unlike you, I’m not attracted to women, Lily notwithstanding.” Severus looked almost smug as Remus stopped dead in his tracks. “Why do you think I never married despite belonging to a group that was obsessed with bloodlines? They tried a variant of those spells on me at Malfoy Manor and it didn’t work, so when I saw what they were using here – “

“_Bleib still!_” Elise had gone white to the lips. “Someone comes. _Ach, Gott - _ do not speak. I will try to explain.” 

A small group of men, all clean cut, young, and athletic, had entered from the exhibit hall next door. The leader, tall and commanding, could have modeled for the best artists in Germany.

“_Fräulein Seiler._” Rupert Maier’s voice rang through the ancient hall. “What are you doing in the castle so late? And who are these Englishmen?”

No one moved. Remus kept his eyes on the muscular young Nazis who had accompanied Rupert Maier on his rounds. One of them stared at Elise with undisguised loathing, while the others had drawn their wands and drawn a bead on Severus and Remus. Elise, trembling, did not answer.

“I asked you a question, Fräulein. These men – “ Maier strode over to Severus, looked him up and down. “You. Now I recognize you. You are related to the Jew Steinberg, the _schweinhund_ who killed my men in Karlsruhe. Your face – “

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” said Severus. He sounded almost bored. “My name is Michael Prince.”

Maier ignored him. “This one – you are part Aryan, _nicht wahr?_ Not pure or you would rather die than associate with this Jew.”

“We’re English,” said Remus. He could not, _would_ not make eye contact. The boy – Erich? – who so clearly hated Elise was looking daggers at him now, either because he kept company with Jews or simply because he existed. “I’m half-French and half-Scots, as if that makes any difference.”

“So naïve. You truly think all men are brothers.” Maier whirled and pointed at Elise. “You. I asked you a question, Fräulein. What are you doing in the castle after hours?”

“These men.” Elise coughed. Her eyes were so dilated her eyes were black with only the faintest ring of blue. “They are professors, Herr Maier. They were interested in the castle and asked to see more. I should have asked permission, but – “

“She lies! Erich and I saw them last night, talking and drinking!” Remus tensed as one of the other boys stepped forward. “Herr Maier, they were in the beer hall. There was a spell on their table that kept me from seeing clearly, but it dropped twice and I saw her face. She works with the enemies of the Reich!”

“I told you!” Erich’s wand was out and sparking slightly as he leveled it at Elise. “She spies for the Jews and the English, I know it. Traitorous bitch!”

Maier nodded, face cold and cruel and not handsome at all. “So the rumors are true, that you were not what you seemed. Did you truly keep company with the Jew Steinberg, or only with his – “

“Nephew, to be strictly accurate,” said Severus. He bared his teeth in a sneer that was both contemptuous and joyous. “What, you didn’t know that? Oh, there’s so much more I could tell – “

He twitched a finger at Remus: _now_. Remus drew and fired upward at the great chandelier before any of the eager young Nazis could react. 

“_Bombardo lumos!_”

The chandelier exploded in a rain of fire and metal. Elise dashed toward the fireplace and tore a container of Floo powder loose. “Michael, John! Here!” The fire roared upwards in a pillar of green as she threw the powder onto the coals. “British Embassy, Berlin!”

“Go!” shouted Severus. He had drawn and was facing off against Maier as the guards screamed fire suppression spells. “_Go!_ I’ll take care of him!”

“Right.” Remus threw a living carpet spell at the rush mats, which obediently yanked themselves out from under Erich’s feet. He waved Elise into the fire, waiting until she was through to grab Severus by the arm and launch them both into the flames.

The air went thick and sooty, and there was the usual disorienting dance of Floo travel. A few more seconds and they’d be – 

Something slammed up, solid and cold, and the disorientation increased. Remus nearly tripped as they materialized on a darkened street. “What – “

“Anti-Floo wards on the Embassy. Blood buggering _hell_.” Severus helped Elise to her feet and smoothed his cloak into place. The street was deserted except for a few parked cars. “It must be nearby – there, the flag. I must say that I wasn’t expecting – “

“Herr Maier! There they are!” There was a flash of light from across the street, and the German guards appeared from mid-air. Erich, hair falling in his face, aimed at Elise and screamed a curse in a voice that cracked halfway through the incantation.

Elise ducked as a bolt crackled past her. Severus pushed her toward the nondescript building with the Union Jack waving quietly from a flag pole. "Quick, get her inside! I'll cover the rear."

“Severus – “

“_Michael,_ you dunderhead.” Severus made a shooing gesture and almost casually cast an _expelliarmus_ at the Nazis “I can handle them.”

Three boys against Severus was scarcely fair, even if they were highly trained Nazis. Remus threw a tanglefoot spell at them for form’s sake as a wand sailed through the air and bounced off a window. “Sorry about that. Here, let’s – “

“_Gott in Himmel! Michael!_” Elise jerked free before they had taken a step and started to run back toward Severus. Remus whipped around in time to see Rupert Maier, immaculate in his uniform and jack boots, step forward out of a burst of green fire and almost casually cast _incendio_ in their direction.

Severus brought up his wand in a blocking pattern that deflected most of the flame back toward Maier. There was a nasty burning smell as fire tickled the hem of his cloak. “You’ll have to do better than that, Maier! I’ve defeated better wizards than – “

Another spell, this one a cutting charm, and Severus buckled as if his leg had been shattered. He managed to drag himself upright against a parked Daimler and spat a string of profanity in Maier’s direction. “Nazi bastard – “

“_Judische Schweine!_" Maier dodged the hex and aimed his wand directly at Severus. Elise screamed, lunging toward him as Remus held her back. "_Höllenfeuer maxima!_"

Severus hissed as black light boiled toward him. He managed to send most of it into the air, but enough got through that his leg folded again. "Take her, Lupin! Get her into that embassy!"

Elise had her wand out and was trying to say something, but her hands were shaking so badly that the spell struck an electrical wire. Remus shoved her through the sparks toward the front door of the embassy and yanked Severus behind a parked lorry before Maier could cut him to pieces. 

"I'm not leaving you here, if that's what you're thinking. Albus - "

"_Sod_ Albus! You fool - " There was a loud crack as a curse struck a streetlight. Severus blinked in the sudden darkness as his eyes adjusted. "She's young, she has her life ahead of her! _Get her into that embassy!_"

"Not without you!" Remus had to fight the urge to shake the other man. "We lost enough during the War, I'm not - "

"Don't you understand?" Severus's eyes were wild, from pain or something else. "I've served my purpose!"

"What - _protego omnes!_ \- what the hell are you saying? Sacrificing yourself - ?"

"I was supposed to die protecting Potter!" Severus grabbed at his bad leg as blood began to leak through his charred trousers. "He's not giving up. Get Elise out of here!"

"Not without you! Your mother, your uncle - " Remus

Severus laughed, eyes suspiciously bright. "_Ouroboros_. 'As above, so below.'" He fired an _immobilus_ at Erich and his friends that stopped them in mid-stride. "Fitting, isn't it? The whole bloody mess ends here, where it began. 

"Cowards! You aren't fit to be human!" Maier was closer now, too close. Severus pushed Remus toward Elise and turned toward the street. "Albrecht will - "

"Your uncle died so you could live! Your mother - " Remus hissed in frustration. "Have you lost your mind? Do you really think that's what either of would have wanted for you?"

"Stefan never knew I existed. How does it matter what he might have wanted?" Severus's hair was limp with sweat. "All that matters is getting Elise out of here."

"Severus - "

"You want me? Here I am!" Severus backhanded Remus out of the way, sucked in a breath, and stepped out from behind the protection of the lorry. He sighted down his wand at the perfect blond features, the shining hair, and smiled the blissful, terrifying smile that had been the last thing Peter Pettigrew had ever seen. "_**Sectumsempra!**_"

Maier stared at the unfamiliar spell, then shrieked as his perfect face erupted in blood. Severus struck again, this time nearly severing his wand hand, and stumbled backwards as his injured leg gave way for good. “He’s blind, you fool! Get her into the Embassy!”

“Not without you, you stupid berk!” Remus grabbed his arm and half-carried him toward the entrance. One of the youngsters had fallen to his knees beside Maier and was trying without success to staunch the blood pouring from the surgically precise wounds. Erich, wandless, was trying to wrestle a wand away from his remaining friend. “Elise! Run! We're almost there!”

Elise had cried out at the sight of Maier’s ruined face, but her jaw was set as she joined Remus. “He’s too heavy for you alone! Here – “ She pressed her wand to the charred gash on Severus's leg and spoke a few words in German. The wound closed but did not heal.

“Elise, you mustn't – “

“Shut it, Prince,” snapped Remus. A ginger haired man in a dressing gown had stumbled out of the Embassy door at the commotion and stood blinking stupidly at the trio stumbling toward him.

“What’s all this? Do you know what time it is?“

“We’re British citizens bringing in an asylum-seeker.” Remus all but threw Severus at the man, who yelped in shock but caught him. “Here are our passports.”

“Dirty Jews, they’re getting away! Herr Maier is hurt! Quickly, stop them!” Two adult ZSS men had joined the boys. Elise cowered as Remus turned to face them, wand out. 

“Here, what’s this? Miss, please step inside the Embassy.” The Embassy man held up his hand and stepped directly in front of door. “I’m sorry, but this Embassy is sovereign territory of the British Crown. Only citizens and their guests are allowed.”

There was a howl of pain from Rupert Maier as a uniformed Healer apparated to his side and began reciting spells. The blood flow stopped, but there was still a frighteningly large pool of red on the street. 

“That girl is a traitor to the German Reich! That Jew – “ Erich, face contorted in hate, pointed at Severus. “He assaulted a German citizen! We are here to arrest – “

“You’ll have to take it up with the Wizarding attaché in the morning.” The redhead scowled. “Right now he’s in bed.”

“Wake him! Herr Maier – “

“Now see here.” The redhead glared at him. “There are diplomatic channels for handling this, and – “

Two more Embassy personnel, one in a nurse’s cape and cap, the other in pyjamas, had appeared in the entryway. The nurse took one look at Severus and began chanting over his thigh, while the other addressed Elise in German, frowning and pointing to the door as she stammered out an answer.

Remus pulled out the letter to Albus and handed it to the interrogator before he could get much farther than what sounded like “Could I have your name, please?” “Here. I believe Professor Dumbledore from Hogwarts is staying with you. Please get this to him. He’ll know what to do.”

“Dumbldore? He’s on his way to Heidelberg for Grindelwald’s wedding.” The interrogator scrubbed at his eyes but accepted the envelope. “Until then I’ll need your passports, and hers.”

“Lu – Cunningham. What the devil is going on?” Severus, clearly in pain but not in danger, batted aside the nurse and struggled to a sitting position. “Where’s Albus?”

“On his way to Heidelberg, or so they think.”

Severus groaned. “Dunderheads. He’s – “

“Sir, please lie down. You’re gravely injured.” The nurse checked his temperature with a little frown. “Mr. Prewett will set things right, so relax. Your leg – “

“Your name is Cunningham, and you’re a werewolf? And she’s?” 

“An individual who has rendered great service to the Commonwealth, I mean the Empire,” said Remus. The adrenalin was starting to wear off as the realization sank in that they were on British soil, and safe. “I believe he’s rather closer to Berlin than Heidelberg, actually. I’d send him a quick owl just in case – he’s expecting us.”

“This is most irregular. Most irregular!” The interrogator turned the envelope over in his hands. “Really, I can’t – “

“For God’s sake, Bertie! Send the old man an owl. At worst he’ll have his bird try to feed us those disgustin’ sweetmeats,” said the redhead. He gestured at the door, which obediently shut and warded itself. “Besides, there may be some problems with the Boche with these three, and who better to talk to ‘em?”

The nurse continued to work on Severus as they argued. Remus signaled to Elise, who cautiously took a seat next to him on the floor. “Welcome to England. I know it isn’t what you’re used to, but – “

A thestral-drawn ambulance had arrived to tend to Rupert Maier, complete with a team of medical elves in neatly stitched swastika flags. Elise shuddered at the sight.

“I am young. I can learn your ways.”

“Yes,” said Remus. He thought of the confident guide, the grieving but resolute fighter. “Yes, I think you will.”


	6. Epilogue:  21 December, 2000

"_And so this is Christmas, and what have you done? Another year over, another one begun -_ "

Remus paused outside Severus's quarters. Muggle songs on the wireless? Since when did Severus - 

If nothing else, the last few days had taught him that much of what he'd thought about his old schoolmate was wrong. Why should it be a surprise that he listened to John Lennon?

He raised his hand and rapped sharply on the door. "Severus? Do you have a moment?"

The music cut off in mid-note, replaced by the faintly arrhythmic sounds of footsteps padding across the floor. The door opened to reveal Severus, in a black polo neck jersey and extremely worn jeans that he likely wore during his summer expeditions to gather potions ingredients. He scowled slightly, then stepped aside with a mock bow. "Still here? I assumed you'd left for London already."

"Later today." Remus followed Severus into a comfortable if blandly furnished parlor. "How is your leg?"

"Fine." Severus unconsciously rubbed at his thigh where Rupert Maier had burned him. The nurse in Berlin had done a decent job patching him up, but the wound still seemed to ache. Minerva had put him on medical leave once she’d seen the gash in his trousers, and he'd missed his last day of class before winter hols, much to his disgust. The substitute had assigned the students a simple Holly Jolly tincture, which had sent them off to their homes in a good mood instead of the usual grumbling about mean Professor Snape actually making them _work_ over the break. Severus had not been pleased. 

"I'm surprised you didn't leave yesterday."

Remus shrugged. "No reason to, I suppose. Dora's engaged to her American friend or will be in the next day or two, and Harry's on assignment, so it's not as if London is crawling with my friends." He followed Severus to two overstuffed chairs by the fire and sat without being asked. After what they'd been through, permission was scarcely necessary. "Fancy a pint? My treat."

Severus steepled his fingers and regarded Remus for a moment. They’d seen each other only briefly after Albus had swept dramatically into the Embassy’s tiny infirmary, patted Severus on the shoulder and called him “dear boy,” and reset the Time Turner. Elise had long since been whisked away by Mr. Prewett, the Wizarding charges d’affaires, who had promised to see to her relocation in Britain. "As long as it's not the Hog's Head. Aberforth waters his beer."

"Only water? Rumor has it he uses goat piss."

"That wouldn't surprise me." Severus stretched out his leg toward the fire and began rubbing along the great muscle on the outside of the thigh. "The Three Broomsticks is closed for a holiday party tonight. I take it you know of an alternative?"

"There's a nice little place near my flat in town," said Remus. "Most of the regulars are Muggle, but I've seen the occasional Wizard. As long as you don't point at the telly and shout 'Wingardium Leviosa' it should be fine."

Severus made a sound that was halfway between a grunt and a laugh. "Arthur Weasley once tried an _engorgio_ on a telly during an episode of _Doctor Who_. He thought the actors were prisoners."

Remus groaned. For all his love of Muggles and their ways, Arthur was hopeless when it came to anything more technological than a vintage Aga. "Molly must have been - "

"She personally obliviated everyone in the pub and dragged Arthur back to Devon before he could reverse the spell. The publican never did figure out how he'd acquired a wide screen telly, or so rumor had it." A glowing log dissolved into soft orange coals. "I’m not entirely certain Arthur has ever forgiven her."

"I wouldn't know." Remus watched as Severus unfolded himself from his chair, ran a hand back over his too-short hair, and summoned an ancient and rusty pea jacket. "I take it this means yes?"

"It does." Severus wound a long green and silver scarf about his throat. "Poppy all but ordered me to rest, but one more holiday card, gift, or allegedly rare potions plant from an old student and I will not be responsible for my behavior."

"I daresay." Several greeting cards ranging from excessively tasteful to excessively foiled stood in a neat little row on the mantel. Remus pulled out his reading glasses as Severus retrieved a pair of black leather gloves from the inner pocket of his usual cloak. _Happy Holidays_ from Millicent Krum, _Merry Christmas! Or else! Just joking - _ from Dora, _A Blessed and Holy Christmas_ from Narcissa Malfoy, _Greetings of the Season_ from Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and the entire staff of the Elf Manumission Collective, _Happy Chanukah_ from Esther and Alan Gruner and Family, _Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year_ from the Flitwicks - 

He stopped, frowned, and picked up the card from Severus's cousin. A photograph of a dark-haired woman, a tall, somewhat portly man, an elderly woman, and two children beamed up at him. They stood grouped in front of a fieldstone fireplace, the parents holding hands, the son and daughter poking at each other. The woman who was almost certainly a grandmother wagged a finger at the children, her dark blue eyes shining in the light from a large, somewhat clunky menorah. 

_“I have seen Fräulein Ilse. She is young, younger than I am, and she acts as though she fears Herr Grindelwald more than she loves him. If this helps her, I will be happy._

_“Besides, my parents live abroad, in America, and my Stefan is dead. What do I have to lose by trusting you? I wanted to leave Germany after the night of broken glass but I stayed to find Stefan. Without him I have no reason to stay and much reason to go." _

"Lupin? What the devil are you doing?"

Remus carefully placed the card back where it had been, between a _Happy Solstice_ card from the Lovegoods and a neatly printed note from Minerva. "So that's why you ordered me to take her while you held off Maier. She's your cousin's mother."

Another log disintegrated in a shower of gold. "Lupin - "

"You recognized her, didn't you? As soon as she introduced herself." 

For a long moment he wondered if Severus would reply. He had to strain to hear the soft, rancorless words. 

"She has a different name now. 'Elise' was too German, so she changed it to Elizabeth when she moved to America. I believe her husband called her Lizzie or something similar."

"Lizzie." Remus took another look at Elise/Elizabeth. Her daughter was a typical Steinberg, dark and lean, but the grandchildren could have been Elise's son and daughter. _Just like Elise._

"Was she a war bride?"

Severus shook his head. "She heard a rumor that Stefan had somehow gotten to America, so she emigrated when the Wizengamot lifted the travel ban in '46. My grandfather's younger brother had managed to escape on his own and was living near Chicago."

He crossed the room and picked up the card. Esther, dark hair worn in a Muggle pageboy, waved cheerfully up at him and mouthed what was probably a greeting. Severus lifted the corner of his mouth in a tiny smile. "They met in 1947 and married a year later. They had two sons, Stephen - "

"Of course."

" - and Richard, and another daughter, Connie. She was named for my grandmother, Cornelia. Stefan's mother." Severus set the card down on the low table before the fire. Esther's daughter, a thin brunette with her grandmother's sapphire eyes, stuck her tongue out at her brother, who made a show of ignoring her. "I didn't meet them until comparatively recently, of course, but I did attend Esther's wedding in 1986. If her mother recognized me, she hid it well."

"You don't look like yourself with short hair," said Remus. "I scarcely recognized you at first, and I've known you most of my life."

"There's that," murmured Severus. His eyes were fixed on something only he could see. "I think you can see why we had to get her out of Germany."

"Yes. I can." 

A chime sounded, once, twice, five times, six. Severus came back to himself with a jerk. "Lupin, I - "

"Are you still interested in that pint? The pub grub isn't bad." They could talk later, over steak and kidney pie or something equally hearty. "Like I said, my treat."

Severus considered for a moment that was likely much shorter than it seemed, then nodded, very slowly. "I'll hold you to that, you know. Given that you're usually penniless - "

"I have a tab," said Remus. He reached into his pocket for one of his older walking sticks, unshrank it, and handed it to Severus. "Shall we? I guarantee we won't run into any aging Nazis."

"'A tab. Why is this not a surprise?" Severus examined the cane from metal tip to simple wooden knob, occasionally making an approving sound. "I suppose you believe this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"Why not?" Remus waited for him to adjust to the cane before opening the door. "I do know all the words to _La Marseillaise,_, you know."

"I really should find that annoying." Only Severus could make a slight limp intimidating rather than pitiable. "Compared to the _Horst Wessel Song_, however - "

"I daresay," said Remus. 

Neither of them saw the old woman blow them a kiss from her photograph as they shut and warded the door.


End file.
